Pawronga Casayno

Glaring... warmth... and suddenly
confusing, one last gripping real-pull
of leverage to at most, give one his
credit before one starts losing. After
which a daunting overhand swing and a
crash! Dastardly scrapping on
backwards out into, a vast grazing of
slanted such pursuasion, though
braison, he must part and make way on,
with a drift so swoon, cheifing the
way thru R.J. Reynolds and Philip
Morris smogged billowing kennels,
suddenly gloom, an overcast has grown
clutch on this moon. Now squinting and
tearing, though shoving and peiring,
still leary, he need set sights on the
only one who he finds dearing and
loving, now timely and rolling in
white parted sheets, they connect on
one another with heated retreat, no
clinch! And then side by side they
seat, in the mitst of becoming soaked
in skid-row buffalo and wolf rain,
land owls for towels to dry off two
sets of shameless reigns, cash out
now.... Walking away.

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