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ooooo3

954
Sun, 16 Nov 2008 at 06:54am

untitled

I cried to the sun for the heat with to build a black summer but O it would not come. Am I to this? This to am I?

I slept all die and awoke to portraits of Schiele.

To genuflect is not a crime. I slept all die and awoke to portraits of Schiele.

The night was yellow envy in the heart of the dog of the sea. She sang so melodic. Melodic.

As my legs shook, I

shimmer o darkness it is no difficult request. I was all akindo

like trampled Samantha in that night her ears were bright red for no other reason than that she was dead. I was only eleven, and I took all of her money.

I can remember young little me riding donkeys along the beach as the night fell like robes off my naked shoulders.

So only thirty pages in I caress my scalp, turn my hands into a miniature blanket for my face and lean forward. So much to transpire and o the dawn awakes out and in.

Two others like this.
2007-09-15
The commendations this piece recieved in IF1 were: 0 minus votes, 2 plus votes, and 0 astars.
kluny
2007-09-16
Sounds like mad libs, or the one word thread. It's got a nice feel though, +1.
sold
2007-10-06
I've always liked these, because I have no clue what they're about.
sold
2007-10-06
Unnecessary comma.