Love is a tool.
If used correctly it can be used for your satisfaction.

Lips are a vice.
If used correctly it can leave a great impression.

Hands are a tool.
But can be very dangerous.

The eyes are a tool.
That can look in multiple directions.

A brain is a tool.
That contains so much important information.

There is so much about the body.
We have yet to realize.

Your words are cheesy
        Like an unclean *******

Every syllable you tug on
        Is like cheese.

You need to clean up
            Your stiffness
And write cleanly...

blue
robin eggs
rest
here
in
heaven's nest

Borea,     about Bob in the middle of the people,
from the Satanic content throughout,
the Yellow Age's bed is not enough,
1 lonely **** puts the radio on;
OMFG,                    |  The terrible MOOG votes
for the actor to have been joining the Travelling
Newsletter as a Peace Center,          |        and **** girls,
Couples see if the brightness of the lightness
is the video and the only AUMLET;
best blistering truly with ******* shadows
on Dot's ****,    |     one time at the Laguna,
Six mimes,
and a gray Wolf; she's wearing her War thong
and the Fed's idea of Judaism
has a lot of meanings,  six of Satan's beauties
are ours if their groan is like GRRR,
caressing her opponents                                     in danger
of being
a foreigner who has disappeared;
if you have followed 1 of us and          
if it is as always
                            she stays in the middle of the mountain
signs that she had been attorney of the Enid
photographs, of course,                
all except the App;
that is starting,                     |          the great Chamberlain,
the general well with other bracelets,      
the wings
of the weaving oh,     if we remove
                                 the carcass to say
to those who abused the face                     of the medium;
The Easiest's *** shows the why                    of the skin
                           of her wild girl

I have pined for
dined on
sunk in
thought to sin
and your eyes
made me
forbade me
took me and
shook me
until
I rattled,

And I longed to
but
that wouldn't do
so I settled for
pining more.

You the deserving one to deserve my best.
In truth, you're the only one that deserves my protection.
This gift I give is totally free.

There's nothing required from you cause you so inspiring to me.
Yes, this love I give is totally free.

Never have I been loved more than I am with you.
You're my dream come true.
Sometimes I wonder If I'm so deserving of you.

You make me a stranger to my kin
have taken me deep into mystery
the great mystery of yourself.

The awesomness of truth
a journey beyond all that was,
or ever could be feebly known.

You make me stranger to myself
a person who knows nothing of
themselves, save what they find
in you.

He was there for a while.
While I am here forever.

He made you smile for a minute.
I making you smile forever.
Now decide who you love?

The man that was there for a minute.
Or this guy who has been there since knowing you.

He stood in for a second or maybe two.
But I have been here to see you through various difficulties.
Now decide which of us is better.

Just remember there's no sharing here.
And in a way, I'm glad he was there for you.
For I see the impression he left upon you.

Just remember there's no sharing here.

So long, love,
say gnite honey,
I'll go pull a stump,
so here I am, the field
of night all around me,
crazy, sad and lonely,
what love there was,
like a bee on a rose
buried in the year book
of past attics, you never lost
my shadow because I
never had one beside you,
though you did lose a ring
once, or twice,
you were like a woman
holding mirrors
over the spring, there
are screws
in the window sill
never sunken to hold
a pane, you don't listen
for me in the rain
anymore, you lie yourself
back into the one
you think you love, cruelty,
cruelty, cruelty, that's all
you've ever known, my love.

Mr. Ingle made a Grand Entrance seem fay and indecisive and marginally *******. His noble bearing hauled a profile of privilege that could sink a showboat. He was the only man whose Innate Vanity was a certified genius. To see him saunter distractedly along the pier to inspect his fleet is to wonder how a languid stroll and a kick in the nuts were now one and the same. You marvel at his flowing cape and covet his unseemly wealth, but his stride has found you lacking, and in your covetous heart you know yourself to be Unworthy, and better men than you have envied Master Ingle, but every one of them paid handsomely to do so.
     His gray eyes sparkled. Proof of how good it was to have no idea how to give a **** for free. The belt that cinched his tailored breech had a buckle that made men of stature and means feel like all they do is pick their noses all the time, no matter who's around. It was a belt, only one such as Mr. Ingle was worthy to cinch above his waist. His silk shirt thought the belt an oafish clod and told it so, but no one else would dare!
Not without attaining immunity from the boots and even then, you’re talking to a boot!
     Mr. Ingle made a grand entrance; and the local gentry politely hated the ******* and returned to whatever pastry they were elegantly dismembering with all the teeth they were born with money enough to buy and have installed, as Ingle's eye fell upon Herchel Finn, whom he loved best for reasons he was paying someone a king's ransom to discover, and he was pleased