Saturday, April 10, 2010

as relief

There's nothing closer to it. Soul one hear this ring. A fruit an erasor a sensor pitching its thief forward. Out the gate! Past the house dick and the hosanna of fans swishing friendlier than every Oriental glum.

Stormy weather and nocturnal clouding storms of salt and sea and this precious air she conveys. Delicate as the passion round her soul. She's bought love and gold. Sagacious magician of the hour. She's wished you every thought of wanting .

It's a holiday take your vaction. She's earned it for us. We are slaves to pie and red.