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Infinite Monkeys. Infinite Typewriters.
More in Dregs & Other Unreadables nursing the idea of us on the way to newfoundlandthe kisses are all stacked on her left nipple because it is slightly bigger and she likes the way the lips feel as they plunge mute, upanddown overandover frommorningtonight 'mmmmmmm,' she says monarch butterflies landing on her finger tips and a low gutteral tone in her voice begging pupae in her esophagus but always, the kisses stay put where his heart hopes to stay. |
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