The day will come when you incorcierò the road (hopefully tomorrow or ever) and then the sidewalks will fill with green vomit.
sverrai by and you suck and we fall in full on his face and choke on my vomit
without hesitation or wiggling
precious and your hair will stick fast and you can never wash
The day will come the natural process of elimination
all the hairs of my body will fall into place and will leave grass green
will be soft and fragrant, and you'll love them terribly, them on the ground like a dog, I just want a carpet of grass covering your raw bark brown ruined rain.
and I made to stumble on grass your own branch and I
appoggierò without hesitation or squirms in your back
and my precious blades of grass to weave quickly and I can never be untied
because it's meant to be and that's how I decided that's how I will everything in front of the brain while you incrocierò on a sidewalk and greet you instead of you turn in the opposite direction to look in any garden a dead tree.
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