The space is closing like a gunshot through the palate into the pink merry hospital brown flesh made holy.
Burn it along with the rest of the evidence.
Sequester yourself under the mountain shade, inside an elm. A sideways face naked as a moth.
We totally used condoms, said the daughter to the Mothman.
He's freaking his tits off.
Go on in and no drinking. You may sniff of my eskimo blow.
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