"indications" poems
Her body’s indications are indicating what she's anticipating.
Something exhilarating and stimulating
\ventilating.
Nov 11, 2023
Nov 11, 2023 at 10:43 PM UTC
My balance is often complicated by the complex complications of construed situations.
The uncensored limitations, the spiteful aggravation; they think these are indications that I should melt with temptation through my frustration.
But if you felt my vibration, it would send you to the sky, where I am stationed.
I could never be what you want me to be in your dreams,
it seems that the seams to my soul are more than what you see them to be.
You don't see me. I became transparent,
hold me to the light for my transparency
to be clear to read.
Clarity will arrive here when your conscience calls and you appear.
My heart blends in the healing water that has a hallow father.
He is the fire that breeds these things that allow me to bleed and be these words that you see.
My balance is often complicated
but I have never once waited to be rejuvenated.
The light of the moon
illuminated my sight through my doom.
I dance with the stars and i hope we all meet soon,
so that we can bloom
as these words fill up the space
in this 4 cornered room.
-L.G
Oct 26, 2014
Oct 26, 2014 at 8:06 AM UTC
My skin is speckled
With small, dainty brown spots
Formed by genetics and
Too much sun exposure, too little sunscreen over the years.
Someone once called them angel kisses,
Indications where lips can fall
And rest momentarily,
Just as the angels did to create them.
They freckle my body
Like stars plastered across the sky;
Randomly placed, no real order.
Like ornaments, they are little imperfections to decorate me.
If you'd like,
If you'd please,
Kiss them one by one,
Connecting them into constellations.
Trace your lips along the spots
To form the Big Dipper,
Libra and Orion's Belt.
Your lips become thread this way,
Weaving through these marks
To sew me up, keep me together.
Your lips created a stitch,
Making me your personal constellation.
I'll shine as bright as those stars,
Gleam and glow in the dark as you kiss the spots
Across the landscape that is me,
Your lips ignited them into constellations,
And I'd never felt so alive.
May 7, 2013
May 7, 2013 at 2:07 AM UTC
Frayed and grayed
Oversized and overused
Why you still hold onto it,
has everyone bemused.
Freckled and speckled
Like a cinnamon stick
warm winter stories
Keeping it thick
Pale fingernails, peak through the sleeves,
Tears and holes decorate the wrists.
From between cupped hands
Rise cinnamon flavored mists
Warm memories ride down your throat
Thawed hearts melt with every sip
Cinnamon specked bubbling froth
Settles above your lip
Cinnamon flavored laughs
Punctuate the conversations
Spicy aroma tickles the nose
Sniffing for winter’s indications
Warm memories on cold nights
Fill up the empty holes in your sleeves
Packed with stories soaked in cinnamon
And the sweater becomes fuller with the memories it weaves
Dec 23, 2012
Dec 23, 2012 at 2:23 PM UTC
We are not a number
Be it test or wage or scale
Ultimately it is only ourselves
That we can choose to fail
They're markings for others
And not indications of our worth
First of which we are given
At our time of birth
When, at last, comes the time
Our final, absolute rest
The second number we are given
At our time of death
We are not a number
Don't take life too fast
Its not about the dates
Its all about the dash
1996-?
Nov 30, 2014
Nov 30, 2014 at 8:28 AM UTC
The gently satanic rhythms
The blindly naked attempt to engage
In perverse fornication
••
(She was in perfect sync
With her helplessness)
----
She was prepared
She had her razor blade
She had her poetry
(All the persuasive indications
Of a totally correct insanity)
••
None could accuse her
Of not being under the deepest MIND CONTROL
----
She was no rebel!
Just the wounded LOVER as required
••
She passed the AUDITION!
She had won the PART!
----
And with the drugs never felt a thing!
••
In the future!
The glorious future!
TOTAL RELEASE OF RAGE!
••
a SUICIDE BOMBER?
A MANCHURIAN CANDIDATE?
who knows!!
(She'd be ready)
•••
She walked up to naked Billy Bob
And fell to her knees!
••
••
••
The gently satanic rhythms
The sense of GRACE
The razor blade
The poetry
Everything at last in place
Sep 25, 2013
Sep 25, 2013 at 12:05 PM UTC
She labors to smile,
irony draws lines
on her embittered face,
thick dark iron bars,
temporarily cage pain;
yet the risk
the two run is toxic.
soon they 'd have to face it,
unmistakable indications reveal,
her velvet voice over the phone,
conjured up an image,
drastically different,
a sadness now faintly asks
his permission to spread quickly,
confused he postpones, buying time.
guilt, a shaggy, smelly, hound
suspicion, its dominant trait,
lurks sniffing around,
the table they mutely sit,
like prisoners of unburied past
convoluting the plot,
by playing ***** tricks.
the air thickens
chocking both,
the haunt leers, licks its paws in glee
what is its intention?
"You look more or less
like him, my former lover-
I try to erase from memory
by every which way possible,
sorry about that, but i can't help it,
he traded in pain of many kinds
ingeniously, nothing else he did"
she shoots from the hip.
memory of an evil genius
was quickly resurrected by him
from the assortment of stereotypes,
vision of caravans transporting
gun powder kegs of bad memories, flashed
he had a match stick handy.
soon, everything exploded to culminate;
darkness devoured all, breaking limits.
caravans slog towards horizon, one after other still.
Jan 24, 2014
Jan 24, 2014 at 9:26 AM UTC
Tu voudrais que j'improvise
Les chemins qui mènent au septième ciel
Pour notre prochain congrès
Que je vienne les mains vides
Sans notes ni croquis
Pour te couronner reine et courtisane.
Mais demanderais-tu au peintre de venir à toi
Sans son pinceau, ses fusains, ses tubes d'aquarelle et son papier canson
Ou au photographe sans son posemètre, son trépied et ses filtres, son appareil photo et ses objectifs
Et un auteur de théâtre pourrait-il officier sans donner des indications?
Des orientations, des pistes pour que les acteurs puissent mieux jouer leurs personnages
Eh bien moi je voudrais écrire de concert avec toi les didascalies de notre lune de miel.
Pense au Cantique des Cantiques
Pense à Salomon, à son épouse et aux jeunes filles ,
Penses-y bien, ma sans rivale,
Ma muse venue au monde sept fois
Et dont aucune galante n 'arrive aux chevilles
Comment veux-tu qu'on se retrouve dans la mare aux nénuphars
Deux canards mandarins batifolant
Sans didascalies...
Tu connais les soixante-quatre manières du kama
Tu sais la différence entre baratement et percement
Et tu veux goûter le chalumeau du miel
Lors du congrès de la corneille
Alors tandis que tu me provoques du regard et du geste
En dansant comme une bayadère accomplie
Souviens toi des didascalies.
Je suis ton vert-galant, ton esclave, ton cornac
Ton renifleur, ton cunnilingue, ton Sigisté
Si tu veux tu seras ma nymphe, mon myrte, ma lanterne, ma crête,
Ma landie, ma douceur, mon amour de Vénus
Mon gaude mihi, mon impudique
Organisons nos langues et nos boutons
Nos protubérances.
Pour qu'aucune partie ne soit honteuse
Pour que toutes soient honnêtes
Il faut des chapitres et des actes
Dans lesquels les morsures, les égratignures, les baisers
Les succions et les caresses s'emboîtent dans un naturel
Si joliment organisé que chaque posture génère
Une improvisation et que chaque improvisation génère une nouvelle posture.
Alternons les phases pudiques et impudiques
Sans tabou éperonnons-nous
Empalons-nous dans les postures de singe ou d'éléphant
Peu importe si la mentule précède le tentigo
Ou le contraire
Peu importe qui est dessus ou dessous
Qui lèche et qui est léché, qui est mordillé, qui est marqué,
Qui est baisé et pénétré
Si c'est simultanément ou séparément
Nous appartenons nous aussi au règne animal
Et que la verge soit masculine ou féminine
C 'est toujours l'aiguillon de la volupté qui guidera nos didascalies.
Aug 21, 2019
Aug 21, 2019 at 5:56 AM UTC
Collaboration's implicit excitations explicate expectations
Unity's myriad augurs geomancy's indications
Demagoguery's ostensibly intuitive impetus coordinations
Extravagantly exorbitant panaceas appreciate exaggerations
Prolifically profuse profundity's autonomous gestations
Empirically emulate epistemology's exogamous creations
Intrigue's imperative promulgation's quantum fecundations
Fealty's ephemeral enunciation's explicit complications
Hypercritically exponential prophylaxis protocol's interpretations
Sacrosanct unary's preternatural predilection's extrications
Eventuation's evocative illuminism avant garde's ostentations
Corrupt costume counselor's indicative explications
Assimilation's synthetic synthesis' ascensional implications
Ominous phenomenon portrayal detinue's integrations
Umbrage ultraism's penumbral platitude's objectifications
Futurity's spontaneous flamboyance's apotropaic expiations
Nov 30, 2018
Nov 30, 2018 at 7:53 PM UTC
Escaping the distance beside me
Lying in a sea of false hope
Destined to sink into the bottom of the bluest of black holes
Reaching out to sunnier side of the fence
Unmindful of being sensitive
Disgusted with myself;
Trapped inside of hell
Giving into temptations, save me
Losing sight of all my blessings daily
Wishing I could rewind time and fix the cause
Wishing I could put my life on hold and pause
But I'm trapped in waves of lies above my head
Drowning in your adversity instead
While your laughing because you knew it couldn't be
You love the stench of your own misery
And the weight of guilt upon my conscious
Burdens me a heavy distress
Problems I eventually confess
And you vilify me nonetheless
But it hurts to have to caused so much pain
Lost devotion and found a web to weave my shame
Breathing gets easier day by day as I'm looking into my reflection
Swallowing my vanity to find a whole new perception;
I'm forgiven somewhere deep inside
But lust could not survive the hills we climb
You swear you'd die with all your lies
The indications I never recognized
The facts that keep me awake at night
Knowing we were never right
My stomach's turning,
fuel burning
a few things I still need to learn and
get over and just forget
all our empty promises
Like loyalty and trust
the things we never get enough of
The things we gave up and broke
How lust has me like a choke hold
It's got me wearing false smiles and happiness
Keeping the distance between the both of us
In the sea of covers, waves of lies
Captive of the guilt that keeps me alive
Lost the key, hopped the fence
Suffering in consequence
The things I need, the hurt you bleed
I loathe the stench of my own misery
Mar 28, 2012
Mar 28, 2012 at 1:46 AM UTC
Application of misinformation
Falsify a failed nation,
Eradication of all creation
Misinterpretation
Of representation
Deny the station
Granted by occupation
And the inhalation
Of justification
No prerequisite information
Just accumulation
No moderation,
Their determination
Through stimulation
Cultural ************
Communal degradation
Societal desecration,
Dehumanizing revocation,
Worldly humiliation,
Mortal sterilization
Never achieving mobilization
Lack of communication
Excelling in vile persuasion,
Proponents of procreation
Birthing digitization,
Destroy civilization,
Indications of adoration
Isolation in delineation,
Irrational indexation,
Fluctuating indignation,
No innovation,
Divination
Retaliation,
Immolation,
False ovation,
Lacking limitations,
Contextual intonation,
Divine fabrication,
Private publication,
Evolving fornication,
Give me extermination,
Notwithstanding annexation
Of dismaying oxidation,
Of valued perpetuation,
Global mass-castration,
Redundant rhetoric, dictation,
A donation, a dilation, a fixation,
An annotation of fibrillation,
We are personification
Of Contamination
Through globalization
Praising idolization
And finalization
Through **********
No pragmatic exoneration,
In all frustration
We see not utilization
Nor stabilization,
Fearful implications
Of wayward stations,
Surplus mutilations,
Seeking militarization
Of worthless nations,
No conservation,
Just excavation
Of the population
******** on education,
Spitting on graduation,
No validation of aspiration,
Indoctrination of baptization
Mitigating litigation,
murdering habitation,
Quelling all vegetation
We will end in radiation
Through faulty navigation,
Abdication and abnegation,
All worldly agitation
Leads us to expiration,
Self-made annihilation.
There was never an end in sight,
We’re lost, and hope is a lie.
Aug 31, 2016
Aug 31, 2016 at 8:14 PM UTC
There is
steeped madness
atop mantle piece cliffs
as if
poised,
in reluctant certainty at our hot fate.
Somewhere,
in the steamy depths
of man’s mind, our mind
my mind
stews and perpetuates
fuming intent
eroding at the edges,
of life for what
it is and isn’t
or wont be for
future tenses and a
conceptualizing
intensity in a
place which hasn’t
ever been realized
or
even moved along a
narrow line
of directed discourse,
dictated dialysis:
deviation
from the center-ed
path
of righteous, heavenly
glory
of the gods,
in the clouds,
on the prowl in the wicked black of sneering night.
For Retribution!
For Respiration!
For Residual indications on the slick success of cheering fights.
and on and on
were that they were
forever forward still.
But were still revisiting things
which were never seen
in re-wrought thought
I thought
I saw but not
because seeing isn't believing.
And believing isn’t anything really
but lengthy
listless lists
and heavy
habitual hope.
© 2011
Nov 17, 2011
Nov 17, 2011 at 11:34 AM UTC
For so long while the rushing rivers broke through the dams resting below the bridge where we used to share the secrets that flowed out like blood oozing from your aggressive heart
I laid myself in a grave with the dirt covering my body but leaving my mouth to gasp the air that you controlled and seemed to restrict me from living
I've beaten my angry mind, trying relentlessly to compel myself that our memories together are ephemeral
But as often as the sun rises and as accurate as the tides roll up on shore
You are the moon dragging them there, a forcible action corrupting the truth to exist in a fabricated manor, overbearing, inescapable, we shared a time lapse I can no longer deflect from my remembrances
It was you who sent the raven to my window, perched up on the ledge, opening it's beak to formulate the sound that would entail a long and arduous torture of being in love with someone who could hardly provide me with so much as a smile
Instead a laundry list of tears flowed out of the machines, overflowing the surfaces with salty indications of an unhappy relationship
But evasive behaviors were your M/O
A constant recurrence of neglect, I watch the raven fly away leaving the chill breeze to ruffle my hair and scramble my thoughts
How could I breathe with the perpetual exhalation of carbon dioxide collecting within my lungs
The very breath you sent in through your imminent kiss that tore my lips apart?
The broken dam shelters all of the lost love and all of the mutual secrets that fled your lips and right into the ears of hungry souls begging for a reason to shatter me into pieces
Sleepless nights and dreamless awakenings
I cannot house these emotions any longer, but you won't leave, you found the key and the open door never fazes you
Why do I find you resting in my bed and smoking your daily cigarette on my porch?
Your hazardous fumes are encircling my already dazed confusion, filling my lungs with your cancerous habits
My thoughts grow as stale as the ***** I douse myself in, highly flammable, as you hold the lighter
You would much rather see me suffer in the memories than burn me to the ground and relieve my inner pain
You sadist.
Nov 18, 2013
Nov 18, 2013 at 11:36 PM UTC
Decisions come from the turmoil of the mind. As it questions your character and self-righteousness. Choice, is the will to give your action an ending. Two kinds of consequences hover in the place of THAT choice. The Righteous consequence and the justified consequence.
The wise bring the righteous to the poor, they walk as lions, but herd as shepards to their sheep. Despite the unveiling indications of destruction, the time of glory will come to pass as the king.
Our lives are not simple, we have destinys that were never heard of and rules that werent really applied. We are indeed mortal, but it does not make a fool out of the insane. A jester may jest to please his mistress, and fight a boar to please his lord, but his choice of action still stands and a question remains... Why?
There is a simple resolution to the cause and effect. You gain important friendships to nobles and royalty, you get a whole new world of opportunities to boot. Decision... Comes from both the mind and the heart, you must choose who to follow at that time of strife.
Young one.. My daughter. Disperse from the pride and wealth of people. Escape your past and seek true fortune from within your soul. The time of war for our kind has just begun! Mount your righteous dragon Jerusalem, he will serve you until death. Soar into battle! Now, in the heat of the moment. The battle of Rider versus kingdom commences. Seek out the Menoaya tree, uncover the truth and find victory. You are destined for greatness my dark one... Choose your path, I will love you always.. Goodbye, Kekay.
Jul 6, 2014
Jul 6, 2014 at 11:37 PM UTC
a word or two is enough
.
subtle the indications
from the real man
.
isnt it getting too hard to stay stupid?
.
gentleness --the key
---------
love love love
.
Sep 14, 2011
Sep 14, 2011 at 4:24 PM UTC
I don’t care about the set of patients with high blood pressure
Or finding the number of people who did not have exactly two of the indications listed: patients with high blood pressure, patients with high cholesterol, or patients who smoke cigarettes.
I couldn’t careless that three circles make up this (venn)-diagram
And that you must start in the center,
Nothing good will come from me knowing that 46 people have high cholesterol when I don’t even know how to fix them. They’re all made up anyway.
I won’t obtain anything from sitting in a cold classroom, listening to a student hack up his lungs because he’s over 50 and still threading smoke through his lungs; he probably has all three problems.
All I do is poke and **** at time that moves so slowly
And exchange ideas with my fingers, ignoring calculator instructions and written kindergarten numbers
Hoping the day stays young and my eyes stay open
Feb 12, 2013
Feb 12, 2013 at 4:04 PM UTC
If you are falling in love with collar bones,
Defined abdomens,
Back dimples,
Visible rib cages,
Thigh gaps,
Straight, white teeth,
Long, endless hair,
Spakling eyes,
Dainty fingers,
You are doing it wrong.
If you are falling in love with the way his collarbone slight juts out,
How his abdomen flexes when he's stretching in the morning,
How his back dimples are indications where you can rest your hands,
How her visible rib cage only means you have something to strum your fingers across before bed,
How her thigh gap is just apart of her exterior,
How her straight, white teeth look when she's smiling,
How her long, endless hair is perfect to run your fingers through,
How his sparkling eyes are always fixated on you,
How her dainty fingers always find yours,
You are doing it right.
Mar 12, 2013
Mar 12, 2013 at 12:06 AM UTC
Ambitious achievements
Believable dreams
Continual dedication
Distinguished devotions
Empathy assembles
Fabulous frames
Genuine exceeds
Helpful highlights
Indications increase
Joyful overpowers
Kindness proceeds
Laughter succeeds
Management changes
Nomination strengthens
Optimism produces
Politeness conquers
Quiet decides
Restful reminds us
Satisfying solutions
Triumphant sensations
Understandable involvements
Victory defeats
Worthiness reigns
X-ray heals questions with
Yearning desires
Zestful concludes 26 meanings
Deborrah Ann Stenberg
Oct 29, 2014
Oct 29, 2014 at 10:22 AM UTC
Before I grew up so fast
I once believed I was a good kid, back when I had never seen the world
Where life was just like the stages of the day and moments passed and carried on
But that day I always remember when a new emotion, where I was hurled
To a new territory, to a never before seen place
Where kids began to find it funny on what others looked like
How it mattered to have a flawless face
No blemishes
No scars
No indications of any irregularity could be found
For if it was, kids ended up"outside the club"
Forever bound
To the snickers of others
And incessant gossip of cliques
Where mothers and fathers would ask you how your day went
But all you ever said was "fine"
Not wanting to say what he or she at school had said
Which made you feel self conscience for the briefest of moments
The first time someone had mentioned that of the few
Eligible to possibly join that group
Your nose was too big or your ethnicity didn't match up
And you sauntered on down the hall alone between each passing class
Each day became another fight
To impress the people you envied so
And though you say you envied not
It was always in the back of your mind
Keeping up with the fashion trends
Bending your mind to things you'd "get used to"
And forcing yourself to be who you were not
Each passing day metaphorically new.
The make-up or new shoes you had to acquire
Becoming a liar, and for those passing moments
Refusing to admit you changed, you turned into the envy you held inside
And anger formed
For as long as you sought to be the one that held the "popular seat"
You could not meet the standards of those who ran the school
Those who set those fashion trends and controlled the halls
With glaring eyes, bending the heads of those who weren't "cool" to their feet
Your anger became a sorrowful doubt
Doubt which turned your insides out
Doubling the pain of exclusion
And adding only insult to the injury
Perhaps one day you realized fast,
That maybe at last you're free from those kids
Who held your talent down to shame
And made lunch a funny game
To see if maybe today you would sit alone
Again and again, each passing day
And I apologize
For on that day
Under that quiet December sky
I witnessed that game, the cool kids played
And sat back and only observed
For who was I to say anything
Paint a target on my back
Yet confidence I did so lack
And on that day I went on my way
As if nothing had ever happened.
Perhaps we all went through this once
Witnesses to a bully
Name called "stupid or "dunce"
Yet we all sat back and watched
And till today I sit
Typing this apology
Realizing I could have made a difference
Apr 24, 2013
Apr 24, 2013 at 5:27 PM UTC
Uninhibited soul star
Coming home at light speed
Unrestricted rainbows are
Dreaming for eternity
These cosmic imaginations
In meditation are indications
We are awakening
A prospect so amazing and invigorating
Everything is changing
Rearranging
A chance to grow consciously
And refresh our limitless memory
So we give ourselves the opportunity
To rediscover our truth in unity
Mutually
Inside our merkabas
Covered with insignias
We are made of the purest diamond bliss
Don't be afraid to calm the waves
While your ego tears and twists
Just remember this:
You are caught amidst
A powerless illusion, it's
Okay to feel confusion
As our thoughts become translucent
And we start to find solutions
That dissolve spiritual pollution
Enchant your heart with art
And ignite your right to evolution
I resolve to be a part
Of this Universal Revolution!
Nov 24, 2013
Nov 24, 2013 at 1:52 PM UTC
I see dreams in the clouds.
Not just illusions,
but perspectives,
indications.
I touch sand castles in the sky
and let my eyes
look for me inside the walls.
I sink my feet into the sand
where the water draws
that which it erases.
I hold myself in common
prayer moments.
Sending my words to
Jesus, who promised
always to listen.
I hear His reply
in the thousand points
of light that shiver
through my prayers.
I trust in what He promises,
though I fail to
capture His wisdom.
I watch the pictures in
my fingers moving with
the passion of living.
I see dreams in the clouds.
Not just illusions,
but perspectives,
indications.
I touch sand castles in the sky
and let my eyes
look for me inside the walls.
Apr 15, 2016
Apr 15, 2016 at 5:09 PM UTC
No sun-no moon
No morn-no noon
No dawn-no dusk-no proper time of day
No sky-no earthly view
No distance looking blue
No road-no street-no 't' other side this way
No end to any road
No indications where the crescents go
No top to any steeple
No recognition of familiar people
No courtesies for showing them
No knowing them
No travelling at all-no locomotion
No inkling of the way-no notion-
"No go by land or ocean-
No mail- no post
No news from any foreign coast-
No park, no ring, no afternoon gentility
No company - no nobility -
No warmth, no cheerfulness, no healthful ease,
No comfortable feel in any member
No shade, no shine, no butterflies, no bees
No fruits, no flowers, no leaves, no birds
Only November!!!
Oct 2, 2013
Oct 2, 2013 at 11:23 AM UTC
If I could transcribe behind your eyes,
I’d see the times they’ve sunk and cried,
The shadows of pain you’ve held inside,
And all the needs you’ve been denied.
You don't speak much on heartache,
Or insecurities you can’t shake,
Breaches of trust, being treated unjust,
Are there fears left concealed, undiscussed?
If I could dive inside your lovely mind,
Swim through your veins, us intertwined,
I’d find exactly how your heart perceives,
Study the language your love receives.
Maybe it's the 'I love you's throughout the day,
Or these poems, though limited in what I can say,
Even a warm meal after work on a cold day,
Or perhaps it's those weekends we spent away.
Mapping responses to our conversations
And how you react to my love demonstrations
I’m looking for clues, all sorts of indications,
Fine tuning the way I love with my observations.
I’ll narrow in, long as you continue to share
Your reception of love–please make me aware,
For, finding your love language is all that I care,
I’ll express my love, I solemnly swear!
Oct 11, 2024
Oct 11, 2024 at 10:42 PM UTC
Burning eyes.
Heavy eyelids.
Pounding head.
All indications of too little sleep.
Curious.
Relentless.
Won’t shut up.
All descriptions of my too active brain.
If only my brain were as determined to experience
Sleep for an entire night,
Instead of pondering age-old questions,
Such as what will tomorrow bring?
Unfortunately, I cannot convince my brilliant, yet misled, brain that:
Lack of sleep will just increase tomorrow’s challenges, and
Thinking about potential events cannot minimize that simple fact.
Oh where can I get a hamster wheel for my brain, so the rest of me can finally have peace and quiet in which to sleep?
Nov 23, 2018
Nov 23, 2018 at 6:56 AM UTC
Collaboration's implicit excitations explicate expectations
Unity's myriad augurs geomancy's indications
Demagoguery's ostensibly intuitive impetus coordinations
Extravagantly exorbitant panaceas appreciate exaggerations
Prolifically profuse profundity's autonomous gestations
Empirically emulate epistemology's exogamous creations
Intrigue's imperative promulgation's quantum fecundations
Fealty's ephemeral enunciation's explicit complications
Hypercritically exponential prophylaxis protocol's interpretations
Sacrosanct unary's preternatural predilection's extrications
Eventuation's evocative illuminism avant garde's ostentations
Corrupt costume counselor's indicative explications
Assimilation's synthetic synthesis' ascensional implications
Ominous phenomenon portrayal detinue's integrations
Umbrage ultraism's penumbral platitude's objectifications
Futurity's spontaneous flamboyance's apotropaic expiations
Apr 10, 2017
Apr 10, 2017 at 8:18 PM UTC