JuneBridals wedding garment for mature women over 40

ghosts writing on the chalkboard

someone handed me a telegram when
slipping into comas of a magnesium overdose...incredible posture weakening.
by dragging these shear obelisks..circumstances of horrid decomposition..but can't be unmatched.. ...
agriculted through virile gargoyles witty fornication...
they pass these stones like pregnate ballons..aborting for the helium..
can they sense it drawing near..let them follow in the footsteps of icarus..
wax of novella statue yourself on stoops without a place to stand
distance what little you know..and watch this grow out of hand....
we've travelled..to this peacful freight...to it,witnesses you all can be.
we've travelled..in kismet crates..we've set out to sea
possibility of selfish lampreys removing our face...
walking tightropes blindfolded in an electric eel landscape...
picking the eggshells from our feet..without the labirynth key..can survival cope without us..
the crooked eyelids wielding a clown face.smirking. at a cornered suffering disonnosance
that willfully be brought back from the coffin he laid in the darkness of shadows unwillingly...
.lured in by a hags cauldron of trickery...mark this spot.etch a name..sow on these plaques.
it will be taken.. not by i..but by a sacrificial slew of thieves...that nabb moments..
using ancient technology..slice them open..part their scales..these jagged horns have been sharpened.and drawn. JuneBridals wedding garment for mature women over 40
are these slithering pinata's a mirage, or are they real..
can i exchange these days..can i exchange these years..
pacing this ledge...another set of footprints appear..no one is here.just me.
or just maybe. i'm really not alone
the letters that make up this note. float like plucked feathers...
a fair weather wren watches as the invitations were written ..and off this pyramid top. are thrown..

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