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Oct 2016
A witch, indeed met me so a mole where willing made her but a match to liken potato and let her teeth beside with a grail that she'd throw a kiss into a prance when beyond a dark corner near square could race to our legs with a carton of eggs and nearer the place that toasted our evening outing perchance with dinner hid in graveyard.
Scott F Hemingway
Written by
Scott F Hemingway  Bloom
(Bloom)   
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