They breed in drains. A tinful of groundnuts. Fist in the honey pot. Can’t. Cultured, in a bad way. And bloom into quintillion coils. Theft at midnight, errors in the yard. The thickets as sunken sickles. Gun-shy grip. All chains. A question of profit. Say something. Quilts, havoc, blisses. No blood. Hnnpf. Of him. Freeing and quaking. He’s leading. Steeples, mud. The ground was rough, so I paved it. Lowlands. It all smacks of. Uttered. Teak’s head. The leisure of pain. You’ll catch. The staves along the course. Let it settle. Other crutch, other skin. Ring road. Orbital. The snoring bells. Glint of it. Inferior lip. Salt on fur. With time enough. Walk slowly. An unconsidered joy. Tell them I’m saved.

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