: hush now, its going to be sleepless. my dreams lately have no direction, we just talk. monogamous over cocktails about his raised subject of typos in my app and how I don’t fix them. sober, diplomatic discussions with the cemetery’s most powder inventions in metal books.

the psychic) was correct sometimes her meaning is judgy, like : I just want someone to  fuck.

when he guessed my flower)     my under age sea malt fog)      her number of brother) how to best satisfy moaning, flash flood rosy cheeks.

or maybe breaking in evening lick bit from the waist.

[lost quiet

sleep in, late      coconut]

: how at least I know the mail works