One hundred thousand visceral human emotions.
Psychotic middle part brunette, I stand by no review before October 2021
Where does shame go when it needs to die? It can feel rot in it's intestines in the same way you can feel rot when a virus come into your body. The shame has grown old and muscled and is festering within itself, and you, working through the mind first and then the body. Making one close in on oneself in order to protect the pearl at the center that is being corroded but the protection only leaves it buried…
Afterwards, he says, they always embrace. The animal digs his sweaty brow into his cheek...and they stand in the dark for an hour...like a necking couple. And of all nonsensical things, I keep thinking about the horse...not the boy, the horse, and what he might be trying to do. I keep seeing the huge head, kissing him with its chained mouth...nudging through the metal, some desire absolutely irrelevant...to filling its belly or propagating its own kind. What desire could this…
Never. Oh, never. Nothing will die. The stream flows, the wind blows, the cloud fleets, the heart beats. Nothing will die.
Hi diva, can I call you diva? I'm detective fierce, you're not in trouble boots, we're just trying to get the tea on the situation.
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