They will be sob unsober on bowl with a salad.
And hardleessly will be naming tell.
We will portray the suffer maker of the self-pity
cuz we know't do anything other.
Well fifteen in month and keep.
(stop rewrite! That shame!)
Oke.
On a hillside.
Under a moon.
She say to him
I will be loyal to you as a dog.
And he say
thnx.
And the tears droop in that salad.
On you holliday table.
Cuz
the suffer are them comphortly home.
we'll kill you and feel sorrow about self.
And in every they a word a look a move
The tear shine like a theare in hair.
(such a hair?)
excuse.
***
© Copyright: Елена Гаврилова 7, 2024
Свидетельство о публикации №124100705530
Свидетельство о публикации №124100705530
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