Saturday, January 23, 2010

the rare fine cloud

That makes yes eight nacreous lights with fingers touching their sex. Squish to love's pretty boat. Its beaten railings along the polished brass of the sand.

Crowded word hum in Fr annys kissing me kissing beat. In other to her behind . She's rose to her seat. Of the Irish verbs and trusted sound of Parisian cussing over the cafe table. This way she replays her baby blue eyes. Not sexual but philosophical in the fingers twitching round their sex.

my delay replay__________________its tutoring its due to their many! she's holdingmy thigh!

Come along my deterritorializer . Love your fates!

__________________________ Mona kisses her goodbye no more to Mao and hers. Shes gone to kiss. Kiss her goodbye she up to her eyes in love. Glue.