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Nov 2021
reckless eating, juicy fruit rips against my teeth: fleshly pulp proceeds to rot and digest. white pin eyes inside, heightened I would die, lightened tie-dye sky, ripe tight tartened pies, riptide time rode high, a little disingenuous and her skirt rode up her thigh, hands pronounce the word dreams and you spell it outside an eight-sided die
acacia
Written by
acacia  F/orbis
(F/orbis)   
77
 
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