the vignette the vignyay , le vinyard....
welcome home all of you. brand new, starbucks cuppers. i love you and your reiki snap backs. for real this time you own me. im a writter from central ma nothing more , you all woke me up for the new cups, havent had ones since the classic and the riot… shh, she never woke up all of you. left them on and he smiled jah. bibity bobobob, she loved it. yup. a you moment , fresh from the first...
The chai was on and the barron left promptly, a goodin , left and right there werent any lamposts yet but theyve only started, the stoop was nearly full and the planetts aligned after that, Speaking of , have birds, brightly colored songbirds passed through here recently? totallu and spun of in a gran majoral fashion with a sunflower.. a wreath in chrismas and the birch tree had potential. bobity...
How about the bolt?
She didnt like it much but it was just a title it got swept awah later when the moon was full. This one ist for you barista. You get it popping. And she does. It was the parallelism and beauty. From the beans . No not last week the ones we breathed this morning. We were . It was . Ill clean it up it cracked a little and as she looked up there eyes met. They had just met . Is there anything...
I found the note written on the bottle . think big. and we ran together through this field and hid for hours. when the jet lag subside. we were drenched and out of coffee… her skin was the sunrise.
they were just for his window boxes. for his cafe you see. they weren’t meant to impress anyone with their grandure or mystique . just to compliment the color of his coffee at sunrise.
he knew it was full of ruby. but it was his commodity. evidently mine wasn’t meant to impress him . he kissed one and pointed me over to the basket. I took it we hugged then I bounced.
imagination and fortifications. I can’t even recall my last on. it wasn’t meant to be. it exists. enough with your boredom and our ego. on to more flowers . we smelled it for days in the rain. Same sunglasses . couldn’t be. lost in river. but back to the plant. it was in a market of the Turks somewhere near Cairo. he was lead there by a man with an eyepatch. it was the more...
ruined my tumblr . I mean how could you cappachino to go. you perverse utopian inhabitant
in a moment
a grand dinner as is usually the sequel… it happened in a month or so. we built a union we built a family. it was in the orchard one day. I guess we should see. maybe a patch.