Thursday, September 1, 2016


I tried staying on but my lips were too alluring when I was much younger, my hair left unbraided and tangled, moss and flowers, this was suspicious. With my pahoa, I could subsist. I look at the beards of the supervisors-- what are they hiding under their slick mustaches? Is is cooked, or is it raw? What was the story of today's new night.

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