sprinkling beaus, this is a smoke show tyranny that is elongated the shouldering aspirations of sparkling disasters and sexually active fires that make all your desires burn in the worst way. the magnified delicatessens of salaried bonuses and you are a bonefide religion, i believe in the belief that what i am believing is in a sham and it gives me such hopefulness. this is distracting the charges of my interest in you; am I even that interested. the disinterest is leaving a beautiful lipstick rim on this glass sloshing with the fizzy end of the lollipop and I cannot wait to see you dance. your squirming inquisitions has made up the displacement of elastic vision that keeps warming all sorts of my figure.