Call it apocalypse as your lips are hedge row to the divine servant. Of your song Jill. In bed with Mona and Jacky.Near this hour of three double some love cloy. IS there anymore like this?

__________________________Paris and spring. Jill skateboards. Meses her singularity. She's the double triple ocular coffee of the maker. Creator of being and nothingness the trend setter. A fine adjective paring away her names. By the sensational lava, the canals and craters. A love could never fit in that box, it's opened plain for any to take notice.

Jubilation at its blowing horn ~. Rise you capacious thieves!