Tattooed to utter perfection – when you splayed your knife-edge needle every which way
Wicker-work multi-coloured ink displaying all of your innermost thoughts atop my blank albeit nonetheless about to be lovingly caressed canvas
The skill and precision leaving my bohemian rhapsody smile pressed fair evenly against each of these three instrumentally placed mirrors which get to dress each statuesque wall all of their own accord – if they could ever so much as talk rest assured they sure would lean on over a lot
Crack their pretty backs mid-process, perhaps whisper a little something in your ear: “She truly does adore you… Now, isn’t it high time you pick up the shards?”

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