Friday, February 05, 2010

night ride


----------------------------Don't fret its the fey air its promise rich with tenders comes to your rood. Not a placemarker out of fair wind to con its finger marking . Toes to the blushed light of the afternoon.

Dont fest moi she cares for the erudite columns of boxing. and rings. or Curlers. Say her husband's boared down in the feet of the spindler and throwing back the second glass to last she's sure to hail her jesus christ prayer to Mary the beloved cunt virgin to her metaphoric scope. Technobitch vampire doily to her flat feet.