The Dude
Whoa, whoa here we go, here we go. “I can’t feel my face when I’m with you.” Hills spill into elegant waves. Calm before the storm, they say. Crash burn, rubber smokes. Trippy nights turn into beautiful days. Whites of her eyes. Feel of her thighs. Gleam of that smile, boo. Bond, bond…that kind of connect. Years will pass, always reflect. Keeping Oscar on the frontline. Dedicated to the art.…
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