Saturday, October 12, 2013

Mona around her hair_ ExperIments at funereal





Mona has a screaming queen. she's buried the dead yet the dead are relentless


restless won't quit, kick back dust dirtying the living. It strings along


this line of thought informs her shaping care and night worry.

On the other hand, Franny the good goes to bed with J1J1is sleepfucking with Jacky. Mona Mona the inventor of a tale and a book. Not like the bourgeoisie or the bushwashee! . She has cold fish hands, and daily forgetting the remembering squalls of her language learning she removed . She's removing the reproving volume of slim tales and peeling curlers around her hair.

Jacky returns back-to-back finding her three to one. Out in the quiet. The bold land quiet. A tear in the cared for rare silent. Muffled kiss caress of four to one her double-eyed jinx.

                 There aren't enough hours in the day to love you. Franny. Her mouth's long as wider a tuba a sheer cliff face of drop. Can't explain herself write backward as the speed of . thought her nearest thighbone neighbour. find her at home on the couch with J and she's welcome surprised love. A freedom to hold the other an extremely good-looking man.
                                      The stupid Christians believe they think but are  mystified by the second generation Bulgarian slav-faced lover who's sex is stronger .  Blaming the other always, Satan the Satuday bum. Poor old Satan, poor old Saint Nick. Christians equal crucifixion, the purple crucifiction. A boy named Henry Miller.

Her face's Slav the the rain. Along the line of crevasse and sheer cliff-face. As it working the air of disdain and like ? As she worried the wandering ? And reciting her bare book? She cambered to its needing know? And her panties? She pulled J to her face crying sigh to her saying mine mine mine you're mine you took him now you are mine . I won you her lissome degree of three. If she's homosexual it's because he's. Not.

Tonight she's hepster to the full moon a sailor going berserk. An empty cliffha


(ginger!) a real dinger poorly dressed.


_________________



She's writes very side to her big. So Jack holding her there spells the name of suicide. Inside Suicide is a very big bad. A gold allegory. That is why , I mean how come Avita is the one , she's the one 's got the hold . on the Gold. In the Fa _ Gallery . Gl_Flagrant denial. We wont use tha t speech here. Even if we cant keep up  ~ the wound's she blest in her behind she's left behind   ~ .