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Globed Perfectly round Apart from a **** on top from when it was part of a tree. Ten year old me Dunks flesh into flesh. Sugary smells as fruity balloons burst within, Spraying juice in all directions. I separate the segments, No call to look at what I'm doing Pulling at the thin membrane gluing crescent to crescent. And he looks at me Cranes the neck he doesn't have In a questionmark shape. Little me starts back in wonder. A White and wriggling worm Has won his plunder.
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Mar 23, 2011
Mar 23, 2011 at 3:17 PM UTC
Why I can Never eat an Orange Again.
Globed Perfectly round Apart from a **** on top from when it was part of a tree. Ten year old me Dunks flesh into flesh. Sugary smells as fruity balloons burst within, Spraying juice in all directions. I separate the segments, No call to look at what I'm doing Pulling at the thin membrane gluing crescent to crescent. And he looks at me Cranes the neck he doesn't have In a questionmark shape. Little me starts back in wonder. A White and wriggling worm Has won his plunder.
luke-oreilly
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Mar 23, 2011
Mar 23, 2011 at 3:17 PM UTC
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