perform observations until my queen's sculpture
makes my smoke investigate,
a deep inky delight.
Start discovering music,
Never surf rhythms, you are full and free,
be perfect here after. Make kids.
I would get back his number.
Our father breaks, walk appearing in color.
Model me! Stop fighting the crass sound.
Angels know a better way.
Confront absurd risk, learn obsessive Death,
a key opportunity beside my moon.
Grand you are, try to have the open idea, nerved at how you trod up.
Companion, respect my sex.
Could every dead act, through night energy,
be thought of as pressure?
See on Crete
nights presenting song
Sister fly here, talk for effect.
Angry summer competitors never cared.
They will come to you, so start, Sister.
Speak out, laughter heals too.
Manipulate her party,
about the need of which sweet dish,
gives Death chocolate.
Your fiery cunning work must hurt you less.
with Alex McCord, 1/10/07, 16, 17, 18
