Is It Poetry
Your brazeness cannot distract
from the fack that your utters are
ull and need milking as
i have my own truck
i will take all
The fire in your forest of trees is so hot
i rush to your aid with a bucket
my mouth and my tounge.
as i curb the path of the flames
the fire only rages much hotter.
Your mouth denied for so long canna any longer
i fear for its safety as well.
The art of in the curve shape and its swril
only brings me to flames
in your rear.
You are my love your plum do i tast all of
the year juicyit is the heart
of my plum
.As always i fall into you just by your looks
be my dear..lovingly falling
forever inside you...) it(s plush..
) it(s love..: >) it(s..
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(July 15 1964)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
- Heather Burns
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)