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Sir breadwinner, could I peek into the golden bag carrying all the prayers in soda bottle caps? I’ll be a supreme producer selling souls at human’s main income, a sunny afternoon with spiritual ascension. I’ll redeem main’s lips but not their soul, can I manufacture that plastic cross with you? A god was born on a Saturday evening against the sky as the holy universe exploded into fiery stars & black dust He wore the name tag: Ultimate Being He sat with His ear to their frosty dimension like an alien with a superiority complex.
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Jan 18, 2015
Jan 18, 2015 at 9:21 PM UTC
Mid-morning Reflections
Sir breadwinner, could I peek into the golden bag carrying all the prayers in soda bottle caps? I’ll be a supreme producer selling souls at human’s main income, a sunny afternoon with spiritual ascension. I’ll redeem main’s lips but not their soul, can I manufacture that plastic cross with you? A god was born on a Saturday evening against the sky as the holy universe exploded into fiery stars & black dust He wore the name tag: Ultimate Being He sat with His ear to their frosty dimension like an alien with a superiority complex.
smallwitchbabe
Written by
neptune, milky way
Jan 18, 2015
Jan 18, 2015 at 9:21 PM UTC
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