Tuesday

Cuttin'

 Mona's cutting bait and herky jerky 'bout most things except mots things. That way she's single in many to her double-entendre. Her puss puss and cuss cuss is caught up as any mare making quality. Quantum 's her right name. No matter how ya cover the girl's face she's gotta have an ass! An arse, she swivels Irish brogue tangling her accent.


If every day was a  traffic song. She knew the bitter blues biting her __ Time to go time to air, time to entrance the fore winged song. It bore her betters farther. making up the letters as it kept long its slow boat and the cllimbing nape her beck its columnar fair.

Allegory to her pelfering miséricorde !

Tangling her ass in forest and woo
she bent

the wide cape. ~ 
Overhead rounding its parent shift. And her blouse open naked to each breeze bested the others.
Narrators of breast and fealty.



Saturday

Of this

Bed of roses     ~ petunias, figs gift for sages Magus to the wise women. Three in her darling poses. not a bank of rivers crawling up her salting plate, but nickers of them. A lost word hail penny to her pound. and the irish glance away ward awayward. Something is missing to cover her persuasion coercion. 'I've always been your fuck friend. Firefriendly knight .

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So Jill's saltimbanque rests her ace   ~.