carmen brandoSara Couden
(thin formed like a ghost. yet unwield. like rock or stone.) scraps fell from the curvaceous talon-wielder gay horace the yellow sun. the sun spilt red cherry product it rained down splat-splatterly. onto the head and shoulder. hey down-a-down. it was in the sky though. it was sunset. there was a glow about it. the hills were loadbearing they were like blackened pachyderms. there may have been an explosion and boy how I loved you.
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