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Jun 2010
riding     goes      a       pale     hors!3

                                       hea
                                -ven

wriggling splendidly orange on her withers
              muscle              nerves
  
crackle specifically shocking writhing

     and turn around to face the frilly sanctuary
of the frailing light whisper.  he y ou gritty
hoof string be impossibly galloping fleet.
    i argue with the dead methodically
           but                                             ;                         comes

  nothing
    o
        f                            that  tangled grin
PK Wakefield
Written by
PK Wakefield
636
 
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