Sever several
severe waves
Drought through last season
Your bein' becomes too much for us, an overload of person
A peninsula of cakes eaten in spite, all of us now being cakeless thanks to you
We saw you before you became weightless, and wondered at your sexiest of obesities, like gluttons we dined on all of you for our densest pleasures
“One more?” he asks
“Yes, please,” I reply
It's a full moon and our anniversary
You expect me to stay sober for this dear Buzios?
Then you my beautiful mess, your dream of the past, your dream of new wealth, are sadly mistaken
You should know how I feel about dreams of ascension
It gives me sad smile, like bile
We don't what it is or what it does for us until we taste it
It's a bitter root for our consumptive lives
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Published Saturday, March 03, 2012 by Frank Sauce.
We have sex and listen to the wind arrest the chimes, frisk them, throw them down out back
I wake up to metal and you sigh
One of us will have a Waterloo in our loins before the day is over