poetry falcon's Post

oh my fuschia juice bullet cloud my helmet with your coded cosmic perfect shape condition and roar me inward an ultimage fondle quake pain periodical on the crystal fringe coffee bone we are sideways in diablo halo balance anti-hickey-club lineage jewel glowing golden like sour puppets at the pulp dong flurry darts clutch the moon from maximal lakes of crinkle space like galaxy pleasure pods burning shitheels in a swamp lantern fusing a triple sweatsuit slut spear in mile long master flares over the weasels found sleeping freely in the mild fronds of spoon shaped wavebands smooch nothing but rubicund unit masters in green everything
By: via poetry falcon

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