by Brian McCloskey
And a nice example of one of these last reunions is this dress! But I'll never forget those tights. It’s time to start decorating your legs. With a prepossessing philosopher on clogging proctorship. Come to London and see my vaginas. I become more beautiful at night. I am the lady with a scarf tied to her handbag even on a night out in summer lest that little sinister whisper of briskness appears. I have the warm legs to prove it. Am I wearing a skirt/dress/shorts/pants? If there's an Irish component to this, I shall retire. If dolphins are so smart, why do they live in igloos? I'm the only one on this train to Helsinki who knows. The date again matches the numbering of the tights. You have very lucky dishes. Thinking of his hand as a phantom. The turtle couldn’t help us. Green mirrors are asleep. This is one of those things that it would be fine to wear in the privacy of your home with your husband. I just can't imagine how she gets up enough courage to slide into an icy pair every morning. Has been purple, will be purple. Or your tomatoes can’t see anything but themselves. Writing hieroglyphs above the Tiber. I want to sit on cold pavement and wrap blankets around my legs. Get head, swap legs back in and get the badge gloves. Dress length, modesty, how much flesh to expose--these are controversial topics. The grass makes no demands on your soul. He thrusts his fists against the posts and still insists he sees the ghosts. Years love trees in a way we can't. They go on one leg at a time. I think she should wear black pantyhose. I love wearing things now that remind me of something I used to wear as a little girl.