Matches Into Black Tea

The ceremonial brew that…

Twists together…

To make the perfect liquids…

Adding to hydrogen blown…

Going boom…

Her sword can cut me…

Into her ends and outs and piles of happiness…

In suckable stipends…

Wrapping me up like…

I am the burrito…

A strong tuck, tucked to your stomach…

like waistbeads…

Can I lay on you…

The bed frame is a rough sailings…

Making its way to heaven…

Hit from the back, yes I’m sure of it…

Knock knock…

Opening up the pearl harbor early…

So I can dock my hardship…

Enough for the liquid icing to shine…

It all up…

Lap increased open…

To slide into the wheels of fortune, penetrating…

That course of composer so juicy…

Till I ease the end in…

Onto the onion…

Crying out for more, raw consumption…

Radar detecting out…

That, outstanding oral fixation…

Updated, plated for my order…

Sweating has increased for my pleasure…

Falling out of your poor’s like…

Elderly black women in church…

Feeling the Holy ghosts…

Some hot black tea till our time together divorces…

This overdose…

Sensational vacation…

Verbal, vocabularies coming out if…

done right….

3 thoughts on “Matches Into Black Tea

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