chrisk.art.blog

Aberration! The hen has the hawk in her claw!
The skies became the earth and the earth became the skies
Truth has now fled the town as a felon is he who said black is black
And honesty died by being stabbed at his ribs
Aberration! Delusion won, finally, and now reigning

She hides to bathe and rub her skin pomade
Yet when out, on her chestlands lay bare her melons dangling side to side like a sea saw
as like the pearls at the sea shore sparkles her cleavage
Her V-shape lay conspicuous to unaided eyes
And that’s civility—oh sorry, I mean that is crude
Yet when the market bins her she keeps sinking in the delusion
“I’m single and happy”.

But the other keeps her chestland and back endowment under the cover of her raiment and for that she’s a kurasini—that is so woke, isn’t it?

On the left shoulder hung the shirt as he gifts for free the world a view of his chest, overgrown by weeds, Oh, I mean hairs. He pulls his jean below his butt and the pant that gazes the world knew no water and soap since only God knows when
His nostrils and buccal cavity are chimney and the fog coming from it will fit for an inferno

After three jots he taps the lid of the bottle and fetches some substance. They say that food is eaten in the nose—and deep he snorts it in
And when the heart turns dark and the kidneys fail, the witches must be blame by all means.