2013年03月13日
Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 47th. week an addendum
"Spilt milk" is flowing on her thigh, don't care a bit. Or, It's a sound of "Spilt milk", on her thigh, not of her fart. Otherwise, I ejaculate out of hers, even if "spilt milk" is flowing on her thigh, never mind it is.
On crimson, on vermilion and on madder, kicking out of, by stiletto heels.
"It's a fake!", to be attacked and being forbidden to enter.
To sweat at night and be awaken, feeling uneasy without any definite cause, what time is it now?
As my cheek is swollen, with a parting shot, to say "Bon Voyage!"
composed by them.
posted =oyo= : 16:47 | comment (0) | trackBack (0) | The Lion Sleeps Tonight
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