The Bloke, The Opium Breather

never a replica for the way they breathe he holds her lids she keeps her distance with
a way to walk the lengths the instance the wrath the terrible things that lay to wake seeing that the gentle
thrust encompass the voyuer he wails of untimely uric he visions of supine hush he speaks etc feels to endear something of such frolic promiscuity he reads her lips and encircles
it's curator with lamentation her elegance hath ridden it's length she keeps her distance with him to want the angles.