She’s an astrobleme – the star-wound with topedos for destruction and earth’s about to hurt
Been contemplating her altered ego, ergo this invisibly viable need – to snake, breathe, and magnificently meander

An endless gaining in balanced reckoning

All hell set loose like a canine in bewildered wiring – he’s been lapping his lagging tail, an eager imbecile placed petrifying-ly til strenuously against her imperfect stage-stance at simply being

Undeniably pronounced aside matrimonially wild-eyed, soon as though she gets herself to inevitably garnering something from supernaturally nothing

A rung above and she goes toe-to-toe avec the devil’s linguistic barrier for demonstrative bestiary – a French connection when heaven quenched an angel

And suddenly, so goddamn mother f**king succinctly, pained her screaming realm midst unnatural wails

Voulez-vous coucher avec moi (ce soir)? Only tonight’s about to catch kite …

This bestialising behaviour, it has all of it been a thing of complete trivial awareness – this nasty-tongued princess-warrior with her age-melded words for wanderingly suggestive weaponry

She’s a surefire must. have. it. all – transcendental by affable, affordable, accordance to whichever came first

The chicken-shit layman or these warbling white-lies courtesy of the beneficiary to the bare-naked Pegasus-in-waiting

The firebreather – or supposedly so, more to the point, the rather slang term for a remotely controlled rug-muncher about to swallow the earth til her insides hurt