Friday

moo

A continuation of figments and fictive fragments. because we've seen the vituperative knight and known its 'pilasse'  and pleasures. Not cheated and swindled by the hungry want me down of me me me  ~ and my breast talking hope

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So Jill's trellis    hoop  ~



Hove a voice along your united selves. Rest the bell.   Mate the ridge .Knackered by its soup spoon base. By the mackerel chairing each hour we fling rings and hope to the perch stone. An eagle bases his key    ~


Not the easy given or   ordinary image its bell pent work, brassed to the tracery along the something something age.
But the escaped word bought by the mouth  ~






Remembers the ordinary and forgets it  ~



_____________ Mona wedges her cocoon across every sender  ~


Knowing war is the dictation of the no good   ~

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