David's prophet
Has only one belly button, until
An ice has melted, for a panic
That reminds you, a **** will...
Habit won, of a friend:
The tired eyes you make, at a vice
Turn of silence, in a chosen name, to end
The dread of *** to whom life has a price?
Politely, a swallow...
Of sharing and caring, is a sly devil
With feet for all, hands for any; a dreams shadow
So to a graceful, but spare cloud; am I a lover's tale?
Done, and given a clash with wonder
The tooth you predict, is mine for another lip
Sacred as a shined coin can be, to a craft of poor...
Isn't is an essence, you hid in a place so asking, could order is...
Find me, in the stir of privacy
And I will give you, the tomorrow of shyness
Where a child with silent opportunity's, stares at infancy
Anarchy's baby, has a safer privilege, thinking a liberty's guest...
And the fingers of devotion, to live better
Than a rollicking candor, of a babe to wander
Into a wish on the way to might, that is the finish of an adult letter
Q, if not thee, in the spirit of a rapture that is a babes laughter...
Jan 30
Jan 30, 2026 at 4:35 AM UTC
David's prophet
Has only one belly button, until
An ice has melted, for a panic
That reminds you, a **** will...
Habit won, of a friend:
The tired eyes you make, at a vice
Turn of silence, in a chosen name, to end
The dread of *** to whom life has a price?
Politely, a swallow...
Of sharing and caring, is a sly devil
With feet for all, hands for any; a dreams shadow
So to a graceful, but spare cloud; am I a lover's tale?
Done, and given a clash with wonder
The tooth you predict, is mine for another lip
Sacred as a shined coin can be, to a craft of poor...
Isn't is an essence, you hid in a place so asking, could order is...
Find me, in the stir of privacy
And I will give you, the tomorrow of shyness
Where a child with silent opportunity's, stares at infancy
Anarchy's baby, has a safer privilege, thinking a liberty's guest...
And the fingers of devotion, to live better
Than a rollicking candor, of a babe to wander
Into a wish on the way to might, that is the finish of an adult letter
Q, if not thee, in the spirit of a rapture that is a babes laughter...
can a city of beautiful gates and good bathing, know a country cousin to sniff glue?