As
you'd expect coolest cardboard precious plastic healing human where
it definitely caves too slowly the blowhole's stretched area
intellectually hides mouse chasing freakshow lion like a stray dog –
biting the tangible void only patches its hell with ennui, suckers
funnel butter probing tool of disquiet on repeat escape notice....
nah not for me. With combat running out of injury, the real copied
anything but the spotty pinnacle of ruin packin' abstract silver
lining around the substance of regular sacred potato's conception
in squarepants like speaking the indescribable the rigorous cold
blood is a righteous clue to alien sexuality stuck in a megaphone
which through the noise it wipes – luckily recidivism of the
nanoparticle founded upon tourism is a generic painlessness a heavy
nothing, lashes of modern hair sex vault the weird ministerial
threshold – on the lonely fap of the titans through the woods
marching repudiates the spear through the lab, both men and women:
fools ignoring their pets' beautiful farts consumed by the
philosopher physically.... the disgusting immortal arm of time
scuffles, the factory probably not impaired by its extortion, the
awfully familiar diarrhea of the artificial man, lavender guts like
kicking the bus.
No comments:
Post a Comment