It is a phase and material notions.
Solution
is taxing.
Dexterity
and coercion.
Weapon
of your spark.
There
ballad for you.
This
game is pure rugged.
It
feels good.
She
offer best.
“Be nice to me,” she said.
Give
accolades what comes.
I
am of such Providence
it
kill the anxiety.
I’m
endeared the woman.
A
bit of thunder
with
an eye given chance.
Priceless.
She
let her fancy torn.
Sudden
sacred.
Win
you to my side.
It
is safe to bring up old ways.
I
want from you joys of life.
The
overlook is yours.
Reverence
in the positive.
She
give him comfort.
I
know from day dream.
Tapped
wavelength.
The
parties are tony.
Cast
a bigger shadow
that
captivate them.
Big
windows the overlook.
Willing
risk.
Wonderland.
(I Could) Eat You Alive
The lamb is tender.
The dressing piquant.
She will have basmati rice.
The dressmaker is
World famous.
Sinister or sweet.
I could eat you alive.
By the day get
more eloquent.
Suffer a fellow
His whim.
Gifts elaborate
All the more.
It come with
the house wine.
The dressmaker
is world famous.
Leafy greens.
Tomato basil.
Sinister or sweet
Wipe away memory of it.
A damp cloth.
Upper floor lavatory.
I could eat you alive.
Books
Thunder
and lightning.
The
storms within and out, rage.
Unrestrained.
Red
wine in a balloon glass goes to her head.
Wearing
an old gown.
The
lack of pride a sacrifice to Aphrodite.
Across
from the bed.
A
mirror against the wall.
Thunder
crashes in her head.
She
in the mirror
like
the pictures her mother’s books.
The
beauty how it looks.
She
pacify herself.
She
walks the hallway feet bare counting steps.
To
the back bedroom.
Ten
of them to get her there.
As
if Aphrodite herself would appear.
There
is a season or reason.
Such
an occurrence would be rare.
Rings
from previous glasses, the bed side table
stained
and drippings of candle wax.
By
now the weather as her grip on her glass is unstable.
It
look like rain. The thunder and lightning.
The
storms within and out, rage unrestrained.
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