by gritted teeth, i beseech you. a corner of your taste and lingering distaste. slowly lowering of pace, are we still sane? spoke of truer words but ne'er to and fro of coerce... lover lover, lend me your lips. speak song thy forth of sly wit. wish wish, before it strikes three. the time of the wicked. lend me your teeth.
Tuesday, December 9, 2008
Quick