I might be sincerely sick of this DeliciousLife when hovers like clouds golden    Fingers pray-like lovers barely breath-kissing. Allow hungry hands eye-thirsty

To touch
please: Your countrysided Curves
Dew meadow puddle eyes
Bountiful ***** bouquet

On this moistly most wondrous DAZE

Two dove(er)s
Two lovers
Embraced in do-or-die

And time eats itself into
A fat belly of jollies.

:: 06-03-18 ::
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