Sunday

no one



_____________This wont do cocky  Mona, crackled yer peeps!__ its yer narrational mode of break... narrational's better than national's for sure it's pride keeps people back in placed ducked to their deterritorialzied selves...


__________________Antimind! my ass she hearken. A bird flopweed. Dripdrop dripdrop. The maiden cullies the fat change. her skewed a fairy pig for letting mules.


 '...This was no one and  better together ... 'snapping  the wrinkle ... 'hefting crosstalk... y Oona's  veer-eyed knew better than  to prattle ...  A  tryst   pearl soft to the crutch coining a smeary ...overpass  ... lessing sand drift ploughing  tide and beach... caring for what was not and is... if these are nans' sob it's as whomsoever made their plywood stock a leman hiss.'' Oona studded Occam his razor shaped tard . Over a culvert. Lost the patrol. Wandered off. Inside the .

'Is she not  fearing the ton of love's gage?' ___ Correct your volitions my love.  '...does its bonnet pull  bootstraps tapping her handlove's ass, fambles to her gimmaled trip. Love's cleft's  a  girdled wearing

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 And poundstone's  lascivious rock ... the arse's crack  the lane up-bending its infinite cult... these hands are as white as the furling cloud cameoed  the cluttering  ....'


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 She wrote it yesterday hier but she published it now and nevermore its icecream love two tone touch   ~