Friday

blissfully

Blissfully blissfully unconscious the sigma attaches the ray of her prize the indefinite article tampered with by her love hand lorn to its fairest wheel.

L'histoire de ma grande nevrose


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___________________________ Tune that rhyme lovers, your colours are washed with sky. ~





Think of the traitors of lover skinny titfinked barearsed and ragged out in the twine of the dirty gown. Acheap skirt onthe apocoaylpse howdedah~ and tawdry jobs barefooted on the floors wax of factories.



___________________ Mona! Fanny calls they're not traitors my dear! mere tricksters hucksters swindlers on the bidding of bullshite.
____________________Wranglers on the arsewipe of tomorrow ~