wearing a cape of burning lust in tepid torque territory brings the shitheel conquering odd quinoa sideways in peace slivers so loud as to become a crib of creamy ego atop trundling creatures of turquoise analysis. and as nipple imbroglios go to self-righteous islands inside the embouchure of myth with a finger flower sutra collapsing ten hair prairie folding tongues to slave and sway remaining words to a shelf of time. even harpoons of etiology like it library style imposed upon them for letting that ache get into deep equilibrium as the last lagoon vanishes in a corona of future freedom foot direct from the olive image. fire wave power. fuschia in origin each ethereal love creek was a fever of hardwood nut worlds balanced in energy dirt at the behest of the lemon monk in perfect volcano meditation

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