Tuesday, April 20, 2010

tangle mire



In the legendary mud of all. Time  is  a band prepared for thieves. Knight to their erring conduits the selves of saviors and others.In the brief belief of this love affair antlers charging.and the penultimate relief of your guarding duty. A furtive fruit hangs .


Jill she change the bowl, offer cherry and cuntass this hooker's demise is good for Kant. That old biddy had ethics up her arse! A stick along the old fundamental pie! they stink from far-off! If we said here today and come tomorrow she'd be collecting frights all afternoon. O the things we've banded pressed and culled my stove, her pipe and the cramped afternoon. So an embryo must huff to get  by! a truer Madonna of the leaves never got by. Bye and by these days.