my mouth is an islandhome to panoramic notionsthat frequenttreasurieswithbated wheezes overheardfrom grass-plots to plazasyou gulped like red heatplay..
where did you get an idea like thatthe shallow screen gave its wordbut you are thick in your war at mouthwho am i to argue thatthe net is far or event..
was it you who was responsible forunderlining thetidings that lay over into next lightor dare i point a fistful towards theknownmultitudewas never fre..
rationally speaking i was only ever in love oncehead over a limpachillesin love with sullied stabilitywith a beak this brimminghow should i know when ..
i keep all of your ideas in my front pocket asmementosof when the ball would play favoritespinning you down with the kind of thrust that ties a ribbon..
you are so hotthat it leaves myneck and myshoulderstenderfollowingeach and every flipthrough i winceand i tic and i wonder ifyoure as rotten as your r..