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Aug 2017
as those felt layers around my legs when I saw what looked like fries in her chest and we ate these flames with mirth and she shook those looks with her brow and borrowed more time each thrill now her gleam in her eyes is wondering there but it died with her bedroom eyes she wink paranormally and such panache that bring her a kiss and the night subside in just a raptuhere or a superfluous tail again
a  story about Judy not a song
Scott F Hemingway
Written by
Scott F Hemingway  Bloom
       Jamadhi Verse, avalon, James and Austere
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