Sunday, October 24, 2010

Should ween



Jill's 'overcome'  her ugliness. It knocks her over. Her pants were tight as her cock popped out. She was wearing slacks and knickerbockers everyone pretending to be white. But white was not a difference wiped out in the pretence of its traces

White was a curse that had to be undone and moved off the slate of its exclusivity.  What was really white was black and the taste of love.

She loves her beautiful ugly submissive and the trails of. Its round taste  kept yonkers and  then bounders shy away . Tergiversation was not her strong point. She's a lover hussy  buckle belt and straw cleets don't make a claim's difference. Shedded by ramps and gears, she's toenailed each hobnailed boot, and her cacolet's job's not getting easier. If you had an ass you'd see what she meant. What yardstick over her impish backside led this route along a garden clear. Not a close or  near in the Oxford pinbarn. An animal becoming  for each torch known unknown and reknown.  if she's a book it's as play by play action polyamourous as the mud and moondry huddle.

Does that please your curiosity? She took her cock in his mouth laying back the plateau of her budding pleat.

O  Moan O fry! O heat! O burst! 

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++ Fanny on the phone: take me doggy style while you readthat passage from the .....she's winking as she says it her skype ordained precious zones prepared to go   ~.


Rattle her cage. 

Send the e-reminder and bus her home. 

THen mails will come as orgasms do playing their role anon and anon.




Friday, October 22, 2010

Owns

 Jill owns a hotdog stand and her in 'better' moments she's a raven between. Like what? O simile of solitude and disaster given the old crone wont'g o for the triune sake her dromedary and double armed love.






If she loved him she'd. And if she did he 'd . and then she'd and there'd be . Peace . Or pisces on 'earth' the shadow monger of the moon   ~.


and no poet speaks about philocophy the way you does _________________Photocopy!

Meet me toonight doublearmed we'll have sparse fields to wonder your four breasted . And the canopy of love. and its only desiring.

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In Berlin the gypsies and bisexual woman roped down the    ~ thing desisted of her desiring arms,
and boxes   ~.

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Saturday, October 16, 2010

She once had a



Round the knuckle she's cozened fair winds,      ~  something like that old roaring gal business. Not a literary lift, but theft at its 
dangerousests  height    ~ .  forget forget her amnesia a belt of row after row of feet i n the parting rain.Its swagger stop by tools and god. That the one that gives up all     ~ not the travellers of I cant handle winter. How heartless their ruthless unbecomings .




she once ha d a carriage the rich woman pained by her guilt and stop in time. She's a bore no a boor in the craftiness of its shamefaced privilege. No place for love in this choosing.


A word inevitable for invention rewarded  intention.


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