silent with his fist back
a cloud of a worm gets inside
whim of bile with yellow eyes
if I wake up I can see a stormy sea
burns
We narrated island laughing certain memories
I did very well in cycling
I showered I
fish fry The sun was portentous
Nobody noticed that you came highly charged of the fair-
anyone really cared.
We used to play inside a trunk
tales of terror-thought-
had remained there
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