wood chops spread across the sunset's lace
so i will quit listening the radio while the phone is under water. all Europe is mixing the remains of history as we speak.
political news, social depression. and ice cream.
summer is for wanting to make love near the Arctic Cercle. and for wearing really nasty sunglasses carrying a a plastic bag with red things written on it.
at least is not the only beast
the eye wants to pour.
at last is not the fastest turtle.
by all means, desire ends all our bulilt facts.
jogging clothes always make the two molecules of hydrogen look cool beside de single oxygen one.
we hydrate by a menage-a-trois liquid.
what would we do if not act as our mouth pleads?
God created heat to get us closer.
so even if it comes from running water
the steam goes always up.
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