Cute rips filters through the aquavelvet
Slit though without me slinging sodden clams
Or pushed up or even conveniently
Flattened. Same me flatters by dressing justly
Ready for that laugh, it gets me
Thick like the mixed height
Of it. Looks almost real like
Expensive touching. But I lose it and can’t
Mulch it, that’s my flaw.
My head attached to my body, or else.
It cuts, that big moon of blanket
Wrapped soonish in mouths. Can’t get any
Smaller. Don’t sing or want to
Here, only slide-down not hungry like
Losing. I went hard too, now I’m that big gold
Girl go out: get quiet for it and the shoes
Come off.