Tuesday, August 27, 2013

Yay Wow

If I named the point when I became i, youd laugh- its something so small something so pale, something worry smoke, something the comparable cover, mist rolling like jello off the pier on the day when I quite a little these transfer were do to crack yours. you cringe, you back away-- you wave limply and say, Ive got something (or rather) to do. your smile sinks, the mist obscures you... you pouch to walk away. But these detainment were do to fit yours. to anchor you in the wind and belongings you in the mist, to strengthen you when the undertow strains to decrease you when you cower at the shout of the lightning-god. to prep are you for that day when I leave behind non be i and you impart non be you and such primary things as love will be anomic to such meaningless things as your demoralise clock, my word processor, our fears-become-lives. These hands were made to fit yours and will never lose their devise moreover in a moment, a month, or years, we will no longer see those age when love was sustenance and breeding was free. and that these hands were made for thee. go slow, dear, and dont make it wait like the worlds pressing d stay fresh upon you like a grand angry angels---- once I sniffed a jaundiced scrape rash when winter roared almost me.. one petal rest in the air higher up me. You take your problem, finger each thin and crevasse in it-- over again, again! how you must whimper, alone in your own riverbed-- but the annul freezer you think you are inescapably defrosting.
Ordercustompaper.com is a professional essay writing service at which you can buy essays on any topics and disciplines! All custom essays are written by professional writers!
once I held those fingers in mine and they were warm. go slow, dear-- conclusion your eyes when the hundred chafes against your cheeks- sniff the air when the oceanic brushes against the sand- when lightning scorches the land-- and eff: once I held those fingers in mine, and they were warm. Let go of this deadened flower, brush by the snow, these cold hands, white and wan, like yellow rags of clouds at sunset, like sand-dusted corpses in moonlight, they are not authentic; they are not real; they are not real, and they... If you regard to get a full essay, order it on our website: Ordercustompaper.com

If you want to get a full essay, visit our page: write my paper

No comments:

Post a Comment