Boy Laughs And Computer Burns

Tuesday, January 01, 2013

That chemical echo of your screaming voice. She was wearing an ivory dress with black tights. When I shut my eyes, it vanishes.  And allow your tights to be your statement. Everything in life falls apart eventually, so just put on your sheer tights. A strong, pale wind on the thighs. A hotel is not a big clay window. (Boys' pocket knives probe and torture bark). Dresses and tights aren't inappropriate clothes. Groin muscles were stretched to their very limits. And now the seeds are tired of assembling. Marzipan arms, breasts like pink cones of vanilla. Then curves like water waiting for a dam.  Both is too much and neither isn't enough. All you have to do is just use your imagination and take a risk. I’m not willing to give up pretty pretty skirts! Don't you have a goat that needs worming? Use the two drawing pins to attach the tights to the wall. And she stepped on the ball. I have tried out and tried on hundreds of black tights. The morning is quickened by the tongues of bells. Wonder what became of the ears. Pantyhose, to me, are one of many symbols of womanhood. Is that why everything’s so difficult? All my people are with me now. The banjo becomes angry at midnight. Even a boy can be a hotel. I've broken 4 pairs of stockings in the past week. I'm trying to get a visual of purple tights. Fill each piece with lavender and tie the ends. I've started exploring anything resembling pantyhose.