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Monthly Archives: February 2011

I rescue actors who fake turmoil, but she probably still has orgasms in the morning, and I continue watering my house plant intermittently because there is no officer kind enough to give me a scolding gift, yet I color visitors to our imaginary nest with free provocation, but the sign went backwards, and I kneel in a claustrophobic aisle.

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I long for death meters in a place without ideal objectivity regarding the current state of internal landscapes, and she bleeds lyrics, yet I keep allegiance to ungrateful inorganic compounds because we need each other in this irrationally designed theater of abuse, and I paint her ear lobe in my head, but they never believe in aggravating pokes from strange entities.

I carry timid bolts into a hairy forest while this desert sinks into forbidden realms of masturbatory intermission, but I hoard sparkling insights, and I sketch the end of annoying velocities because she remembered the code that subdues each monster in obligatory alleyways, and I yelp at historical architecture to beg for inclusion, and I trust in her dress as the wind covets nothing, but I convince ligaments that we can make it because no one else honors their stretching obsession, and I peak into her normal aura while she throws a tangy smirk on top of my prickly ambition, but revolts dry out when the stimuli hypnotizes the wrong corner, and I undermine sleep, but she impales my content hammock with aggressive propositions for a rainy day, but this libido engages in crimes for the benefit of finalized theories suffocating in their opaque coffins, and I like orderly havoc with a bit of vaginal accompaniment while their ambush fails to capture an error because intentions come with defective trap doors, and I yield to the subtlety of your essence.