Friday

glean

She glean and



What else to tell but :





__________this pave you lift moons honeycombs ride whirlfoxfactory. not the dash combings its sideburns its leaves healing the sanctum wound? O Franny cut that baloney yer a tree tied round your marsh and the breeze crumples at your every command.



This place has no sex and silence no seizure for the lien and the recommended sentence is ten years to a pound. That was a good cigarette. Come again will you? Shilly to her hood and willful to her hoof she's blasted the tenants in the woods and a blameless far is coming along the way.Shat to her face! Vulgar pig! every prune baste has your material on it. To hold and reaching the hold persevering against its ridden need and stare blankly to the godlike bound suffering its ten percent choice this might make you pause and reticent with the tune barrel forth a lungbusting harmony dragged to your fourth octave and to doubt this blood your father's blame or wax and wane pause on the idea of an alcove and the balcony O these things reading and read not pushed and yanked but rounded out to batch the place... And she dresses in red tights black collars soft to the brainy stuffed touch her fine braille smooth over the frame that might be a father's ragged fortune!
O fluff and fair my chinese girl! yer sequined look and the two part bisexual combinatory of your body... these are the truths a man might seize major to his whoresome self....

Franny's dreaming fanny Jill Mona to her cryingtart. A sylvan plateau 1715. Revolt and memory manufacturing and ipods, near voice and sand far glance to her brief becoming.



I have held you very close to the command ~ .