Apr 11, 2020
Ill Heaven Zero Four
NINE is eight found wanting stale orchids splutter pure airways overnight no second breath come first gasper justice thirsts as curfew drains March makes aether culprit,
flittish snide barbs niggle vindictive zests defy belief –when will words fall petal free? consult yond inner demon seed that insufferable bore that force feeds you breast fed by orphan shovels drives me wild eyed to distraction
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