Tuesday, March 23, 2010

Risking the air

  The sun is weak so risible its not funny. The air's a cheap chance on baking goods and heart that've mellowed.Old Bag hag your swollen geeeze dont bother me no more! Back you go to that middle class vaccuum

                  Yet she senses something else arise. A fine cape a calm space a rested meadow . As the wound reclines and everyone knows she's there.