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Willene's toss-the-keys-out-the-window walkup.
wet rocks, very dead violets, and succulent b.o.
Greensleeves low-to-mid.
sounds of your girlfriend carving duck.
not just dead but not yet alive.
front loading my purse, a sow’s ear.
back ending tipsy topsy sludge.
knock it off, demon!
collating lemon ginger seltzer in the
anysex watercloset.
heartbreaking omens. steady-cutting
skid-knee bender.
packingtaping the pizzaboxes to the
stairwell windowsills.
we’re tripping and beaming.
calling me a prick,
no one's shutting up their curtains.
no "what the fucks" heard from my ducal yurt,
with dank twat a far yonder hunger.
Intervals Hilarious
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