my 2nd post

ride to make world happen, you roam all for not the chance of stuff, then stuff goes for the window and grabs feet before studied pose makes happen last chance to shine the water. feet for your star culture, nose all starred away like mole in can from museum of plastic animals, written for them chupa-chups! when all that cringes, doctrine in the shorts. purpose or some purpose for the weather. these rank dabbed-bills, on the traces of boots or some stuff or foot stuff for light wear and tear on the cardio, nothing for the trembling, just gotta do with.

tithe to shake girl-cabin, to loam wall snores what stance what snuff, when tough rows oars the shin goes, stan nabs sheets. war-studded prose shakes sappy cross dances, two times the daughter. or something something, you now.