Is there no knight like yours? as leaning into her lips she's every merry thing a mersey beat . Puffing her lonesome.
and here ? Yes, here too her hair of summons and groan.
_______________________ Over the crest around the plateau a starry-eyed stony creek bed, a brook chunked out on the wing of starting and finishing. A star.
___________________________- Jill: are you intolerant of farforeign tongues. None of they is in my heart and my youknow what.