I twas some lines ago; snorkels of waer uh no.
sounds like beep
posing of relics of pot’oles. and he was sure that it was his brother.
except I was girl and much prettier than his brother;
but he beamed me scar-tornado like uh that citation; and that citation;
cant: you’a guess wtit wons.
till he rummed that it was rude; I had to be his brother;
he pulled down my pants and saw the brocade of enlightenment
I pissed in release and not fear; my bladder relief-ed after his many injections
and I watched as the others baffled at the scoundrel I was for not doing yes.
It’s much more complicated than that.
I was raped at two; for being a girl.
So don’t boo-hoo wroo here. I’ve had it all. in every zinc.
[why don’t you try it; then being his brother.]
I killed them all; to save them was a triumph of silver; the rains couldn’t stain them
clean anymore. It’s much worse than rape; and anything you can imagine; are you so sure; that you’d like to o’pen that way. Up my trail.
truth: his morning: I saw the man stalking in blue grains; the pent up brazil; cited; games
and the pictor of the non-victor ruling under my cream. I said no you can’t add that to your toffee; you’re too greedy; and Ir eally meant it; it means you can’t add that to your toffee; there is no else; remember we’re not the same person.