all love
through
the crisply murdered toto
of uncouth faces
(FALL) i want to sing
inside you once again
each crimson bending
of vein
the accidental flower
of my hips
some death living
more hotly lathered
in young stupid
lovely dumb lips,
(noth shaping)
unelected silence
that sings to me:
i might feel O'
your primrose hands,
whose palate
,in plushy sward,
cannot house
or unhouse
the lord,.
'
,
'
,
'
'
;
.
Oct 3, 2014
Oct 3, 2014 at 3:41 PM UTC
all love
through
the crisply murdered toto
of uncouth faces
(FALL) i want to sing
inside you once again
each crimson bending
of vein
the accidental flower
of my hips
some death living
more hotly lathered
in young stupid
lovely dumb lips,
(noth shaping)
unelected silence
that sings to me:
i might feel O'
your primrose hands,
whose palate
,in plushy sward,
cannot house
or unhouse
the lord,.
'
,
'
,
'
'
;
.
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