He’s been telling her his sins whilst she’s been sharpening the might of her eyesight… she’s a plagiarist version of the sad times

And all of this has to have been a complicated conversational masterpiece only minus any of the visionary pupils swimming vividly inside

Yet, she’s got eyes of the bluest kind and all that he ever really wanted was for her face to decide – sweet, mild and mouthwateringly contagious

And a star-stricken tear shapes the edges of the night skyline, whilst her mind paraglides, grapples with the kite-of-light

To find a supernatural source of handheld, -led curiosity again

Midst the dancing foreclosure of the scintillated hot sun – all of one, ten a serenely flicked new dawn arising penny when divided by seven-billion other disciplined people

He stole her words and earnedly turned them into a figure of speech that, when whispered back against the shape of her bedraggled earpiece, matched her figure of enticement for complete excitement

Seems to me that she’s the pretty little article of pretty little particles of pretty little distractions that matters the most in the whole snide-eyed realignment of our thirsty world

He will take her body to church and break the crust by the bend of Christ’s knee

That looks tasty, she looks plenty…

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