Saturday

CambRic

Cambric is what Lady S. wore when she was naked. The fife played merrily and the worn pillow brand the owl of desert song.

Thiswish of hers was for few. But not many an Appalachian paradox for to lend her lane. Her lame brow never tearing off a piece . As if she was some detective deducting on the town, cashiering her chips, pending an investigation into her career choices, posies and roses, and other fleurs, ___ piled up before debtor's prison rose in her Eyes!





Some might work for the worst, but she loved the best fearing its perpetual betrayal she remained few to one and lots to others. THIS was a whore's job.


___________________Home for dinner and the bidet. Not a box for billet doux but safes and crackers dreams of the Inquisition, revolt, and bloody slaves, heads rolling. Guiltateen for you you bastards! She leaped to the topmost mast of the hip. Grounding her teeth between its walls the contiguous hurry of her self.
And then latitude knew her way carrying past the vicious results of self.

___________________________________Jill gambles, no I mean gambles it, no tramples it under the ashes of smitten proud crowds, humdingering it to playboys and sloth birds.



________________ Mona marry me!