keelish gob.

heavy is to play,

oh heaven seven got the rose bud, snow globe,
his salad has his childhood,
and the red hood is violent
the practice is to silver, sparkly... sparkly..
in a house in a house, fighting spouse,
grandma quickening getting faster, speeding up.
hosing down the back porch with so many options
rising with the scorpion and washing the front hood,
play a nice old game, and finish that landing.
operate under the dresser under the thoughts of begging.
peaches of pieces, i know there NOT and if it were to be,
I thought i was obviously a cartoon, barley, bartley, I'm done.
caution caution, softy creme, i am the fish cold, clean, clean green..
saving me, fish lips, apple lung, not a sure answer, in a jail, in the border.
walking, with my hands in my pocket, wishing, watching while in my aisle,
every 60 seconds, eating, feeding, breathing snacks.
coy dog, the language explodes each to his own.
I have money on thee pilgrim is sacrilegious sleepovers.

in his head explodes,
paper bird flow.
in a cone...cone.
will you come wit
come wit me.
in a silver bed explores... somewhere.