Cory Matthew Gasaway
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Post by Cory Matthew Gasaway on Feb 22, 2003 19:16:00 GMT -5
A Starry-eyed cause of liquid temperance blushing over crimson, spicy waxfaces- Retro-beating handpumps channeling the oversound- from mirror to ear.
Drapped sogbalmed with trippy sweatness, by a cool drink spilt of orange velvet- As if playing in unchartered playgrounds, Swinging- teetertawing with clubheads.
Bruff strokes on the smooth grass- hands of killers dirtbearing savage pasts. Choirs of down seraphim dance- and squirm, deaf to the noise of the cookie dough nights.
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Post by girlshapedgirl on Feb 23, 2003 2:50:18 GMT -5
wow dude! if i had your hand i would kiss it what a friggin brilliant poem may i print it out? man oh man can't even begin seriously with poems like that why aren't you a member? get on the gas my friend and write some more my hat is tipped to you
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