turn paunchy longed I your love between him When juices is the
life we want to live. As when you ponder: mow the yard? or iced tea
and a fan? Are you a poet? No! How desolate and bereft of hope, the
destiny of Man. but you eat that peach like you watch the snow
Reversing the fields of time can prove that a giant was once a tiny sperm
and not having toast just makes me blue