Saturday, October 31, 2009

__________________City _________________






Jiil _ a little ash under her nail. Polish and nowhere landing. Step to shore, shore to river. Bank to blood, carmine to determine. lets the pail out for caught the water and her. Niece was very well that way core to her resemblance, as in a portrait wincing by its capable resonance to the realist salt, the school blending and tending toward the unrealistic, and the mode disturbed by the model's asscrack, and her apparel, was a robe veiled by rubber tubes, kind it was and better, but not superlative her relative laxity feinted the hourly pain of concern, she was not made for such caterers and their bottles, or when the swimmer turns at high tide bringing her body back form wise from the 'deep' and leagues off her husband smiles, harvested b y the fender of clock work in Toulouse. She comes round then a mountain painter, naked as the day her brush was born. And his sexcock was hard.