For her Core pur
October 24th 2009 12:57
Your hand is cold like a black window in the middle of a quiet night in the country,
For stand is old bike a crack widow in the giggle of a tired fight by the front tree,
Your smile is warm like a red brick wall when the day is sunny,
Poor Nile is swarm spike a bled flick fall then the ray is funny,
Your tongue is wet and sexy like a raised eye brow on the face of a beautiful, tanned blonde girl naked under a drenched baggy cream t-shirt in the middle of a bright blue swimming pool in the late afternoon,
Core lung is bet and flexy pike a fazed sky cow don the case of a dutiful, fanned scone furl fated blunder a clenched raggy dream p-skirt in the simple of a flight drew skimming mule in the fake ultra-noon
And you love me.
And I miss you.
For stand is old bike a crack widow in the giggle of a tired fight by the front tree,
Your smile is warm like a red brick wall when the day is sunny,
Poor Nile is swarm spike a bled flick fall then the ray is funny,
Your tongue is wet and sexy like a raised eye brow on the face of a beautiful, tanned blonde girl naked under a drenched baggy cream t-shirt in the middle of a bright blue swimming pool in the late afternoon,
Core lung is bet and flexy pike a fazed sky cow don the case of a dutiful, fanned scone furl fated blunder a clenched raggy dream p-skirt in the simple of a flight drew skimming mule in the fake ultra-noon
And you love me.
And I miss you.
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