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She's like a fruit stall has it all laid out I can **** her or ****** she says, this place stinks of bars and latrines and unmade beds and unwashed bodies but we embrace anyway and kiss what it is hard to see, frutta giovane ragazza **** she opens up to me and I to her and it is fun and we dish up dirt on those who dish up dirt on us and it is cool and we laugh have *** and bath, how dark the place seems a distant echo of cries and screams like one does sometimes in dreams but here is no dream or if so a nightmare kind and we see nothing much as if blind, we lay in the afternoon sun drink ***** and smoke and joke and have *** again again then lay back let dry the sour juices, no light no love no warmth no hands touching or body seeking just that far away echo of what might have been had we known or knowing seen.
0
Dec 17, 2016
Dec 17, 2016 at 4:56 AM UTC
TROPPO TARDI.
She's like a fruit stall has it all laid out I can **** her or ****** she says, this place stinks of bars and latrines and unmade beds and unwashed bodies but we embrace anyway and kiss what it is hard to see, frutta giovane ragazza **** she opens up to me and I to her and it is fun and we dish up dirt on those who dish up dirt on us and it is cool and we laugh have *** and bath, how dark the place seems a distant echo of cries and screams like one does sometimes in dreams but here is no dream or if so a nightmare kind and we see nothing much as if blind, we lay in the afternoon sun drink ***** and smoke and joke and have *** again again then lay back let dry the sour juices, no light no love no warmth no hands touching or body seeking just that far away echo of what might have been had we known or knowing seen.
A DANTEAN SCENE.
TerryCollett
Written by
Dec 17, 2016
Dec 17, 2016 at 4:56 AM UTC
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