A rogue not possible, my laughter preceded. Crisis and humor are my hands.
meetings in ghost town
That I should hear them speak would lessen longing. The precision of dreams pulled the bullet worldly around the curve I know - and to own this rendition of desire, Let me have my imagination. The path matched my hair’s length - memory and sharp performance (fingers of darker demons softer still around his member) To fetishize nature. Textures pure to sizeable form are more enticing than dead calf: factory worn, fashioned to sharp performance, lesser than the tongue.