I can't tell if you're smiling with that mask up to your eyelids but I find your scent beguiling eau de terroir or is that terror pure and unbridled
anyone else feel put away wet but don't remember getting ridden hard side or unsaddled?
I like my survivors like I like my snakemeat unrattled and well-molted
Those with whom we cohabitate the I-and-I thrive mind felt the weight of this crown before it came crashing down around our ears, all our mortal fears in a mushroom cloud of cosmic dust and acid rainy days seeded by sudden sovereignty
Carl the Fog gives sad hugs I'm not sure that dude abides social distancing cuz he's all up in my grill again another of those days that end in "Why is it always hoodie weather?"