{more honestly} paul adrian mabelis I remember dating this shoe, its laces left unguided by the free will of gravity bound by a particular and peculiar form of what held it all together. Sagging, She was this distraught and sometimes demure girl that cut herself wearing pearls on her arms and legs around October, it wars a perennial event, as if loose twigs and branches kicked by the wind from the sidewalks angry for falling right around our anniversary realized we were mere vehicles of lust together because the sex was good. The love already calculated conditional the cone of silence was a list of demands to change (ask her bourgeois parents), they ate different food than my family in their eyes, our food cost less came to the table faster and was luke warm - like that church in revelation where god reprimanded the angels for being idle in the kitchen. Boy was she right, except about the sex to this day I’m convinced she was in there making my dick into an acorn Some wicked spell ex-girlfriends cast on you from the past. Abracadabra baby and have a happy hollow pene. |