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mqoisgotnan · 1 year

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fxshigurosbae · 2 years

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THEIR BIGGEST KINK . . .

⋆.ೃ࿔* gojo, toji, nanami, getou, megumi [19], yuuji [19]

✶ mature content (minors do not interact) — pet names, sensory deprivation, breeding, praising, impact play, gagging, blow job, femdom, creampie, fingering, strong language.

taglist | masterlist

gojo

goes crazy over having you unable to see, wearing a blindfold — not just any, but his — whenever the sorcerer wants to make you suffer, a little more than usual, he wraps the fabric around your head like there’s no way you can take a peek at anything. gojo loves watching those little whimpers of anxiety and fright coming out of your angelic mouth, uneasy, completely in fear of what his next move will be. gojo loves watching your desperate state after he had just fucked his digits into your cunt, so helpless and fragile. that way he can admire and study every inch of you without having to worry about your complaints and, to him, a sexy bickering — which he loves as well — having you beg ‘toru, please! I’ll be a good girl, please! as you cry out in an attempt of relieving your affliction, because you know very well how much you adore seeing that man fuck you into oblivion but sometimes, he mercilessly won’t let you. gojo’s biggest kink is sensory depriving your poor, and aroused, self.

toji

is a rough man when he obliges you into submission, into punishing you into his well-trained slut. the man is unable to restrain himself after noticing the big red mark of his hand imprinted on the lower side of your ass, after teaching you some lessons on how to properly behave — right under the slightest revelation of your skirt when out in public, still when you try your best to hide it — or even at the evident bruises on the back of your thighs from how harsh he slams his cock into you from behind due to the repetitiveness and harshness of his toned body against your sacred skin. could not forget about the slight yellow prints of his digits on the sides of your neck — just where your hair lays over, and he messes with it, getting it out of the way for the sole purpose of causing flushness on your cheeks. In conclusion, toji is simply, and seriously into impact play.

nanami

as the polite and composed man he is, there is no way he’d be into abstract extremities — there are just a few exceptions, able to count on your fingers — constantly worried and reassuring, the sorcerer surely can be considered an ideal man, husband and father included. that being said, nanami cannot seem to stop fantasizing of stuffing your pretty little cunt full with his load of cum, that’d soon give him babies, his and your babies. he’d groan so freely at the simple thought — and sight of your teemingly dripping-white pussy — of knowing that all of that would probably get you pregnant, specially after fucking the liquids inside you over and over again with a sweet whisper keep it inside you, okay, darling? then, it seems obvious nanami’s into breeding his wifey, you.

getou

has an air of superiority, imagine how he feels watching your unraveled self unable to even speak, move, think, breath or keep your eyes open while his cock is deeply down your throat as you gag repeatedly. his fingers wrapped around your hair, holding it still while thrusting his hips up smugly and beneath him, the ultimate choking mess, gasping for air, mumbling all sorts of pleading languidly — on the verge of tears and apparent faintness — grunting ever so often and teasingly encouraging keep still and let me cum in your mouth, baby. geto will never not admit how much into watching you gagging he is.

megumi

treats you specially, like a treasure and rarity because he knows how good you are to him. shy and cool-headed, he never fails to shoot that one perfectly-worded endearing commentary into your ears while he fucks you so lovingly after you had just assured him for the thousand time ‘gumi, that feels s-so good, i love you ‘gumi and other of those heart-felt compliments, explicitly letting the dark-haired know how perfect of a boyfriend he is — and how mind-blowing of a calculated orgasm he gives you, props to gojo and the internet — with your words, there’s the obvious bright blush on those cheeks and point of his ears, adding to the wholeness of his passionate expression. megumi can definitely say he loves the praising you give him, and he returns truthfully.

yuuji

seems like a horny one and totally out of his mind, which is not a lie but what people fail to notice perspicaciously is how that same constant and unaware randiness makes him your perfect victim. he’d do anything and everything for you, in order to have you dominate the shit out of him, you don’t know how much of a turn-on it is whenever you’re jumping on his cock, ordering him around like an obeying puppy. when he watches the same cock drown in and out of your pussy while there’s nothing he can do but let you control him, use and abuse of the pleasure and own him, play with him on the palm of your hand, damn, he lives for it. his libido is high, for a nineteen year-old, he is out of this world, that being all more fun for you. yuuji would shamelessly say the best thing is when there’s female domination, after all, women are hot, and he directs that to you.

fxshigurosbae © please do not upload my content on any platform

🔖: @reiners-milkbiddies @yourfavouritepineapple @angiefucks @kitabestboy

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libidomechanica · 15 days

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Should notormie of tho, and wise

Loss tune, in day: but should fierces beauty pursue, all this eye. With Silvia in itself- enjoy of our day

beautiful a for had for than aesthetic blances whom thou cannon-buries the blame, and ranged the gardens in last, but

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that I deserved not stical ecstasy to that probatest think and not touch’d nevery cloud intangled woman

answere had well who perform, his eyes so fresholdiers hail’d, to contagios o’er inches once I done woo’d all sees real.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 4 #218 texts #ballad

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parse-c · 2 months

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Cécred actions | by конеяетс

Is Beyoncé making a covert extension to support a liberal movement emergent amongst England’s creative underwriters?

Or to bring a U.S. scene of collectivity, a lion’s portion of hope ostensively?

At the Brits awards, British pop newcomer and winner of best new musical artist, RAYE, gave a heartfelt and eminent speech of thanks. One of several. She cleaned up on the awards front.

But a coda to her speech–one of them–was a humble request of a route of compensation for writers of music in the UK. She mentioned “royal credits” for writers. Are songwriters eking by in Wngland? Mmm, idk.

How is Bey related to this? Her brand Cécred is word-empowerment par-excellence. Or I thought as teemingly of hands in high places.

Cé | Type “king” into Google Translate and it’ll give you several calligraphs. One is 辟, listed as “monarch”.

By some order of events unknown, 辟 was converted to 策, by entering the symbol for monarch in an English field.

The actual symbol for “Cé” (策) realigns itself as a turn of events: Policy, plan, trust, riding crop, method, plan, whip.

That’s whip in the political vote-rallying sense. The words align to convey a plan to influence…sounds sinister at first. Til you come to terms with the rest of the lexical party:

Cred | Prima facie: credit. Entrust a valuable asset to someone. In Mandarin, “trust” is (托).

Tuō plus Cé sans acento produces 侧托 (cetuo), “side support”.

Lexicographically, the Cécred brand name emanation is team.

Apparently even the Russians (or their a.i. technology are in the beyhive (in Bulgarian characters):

And т

#beyonce #language #reading #linguistics #blacklivesmatter #black magic

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flowerflamestars · 3 years

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Effloresce snippet

Whatever Cassian’s face was doing, it made Elain laugh, the merry little sound echoing, visibly brightening Lucien’s sly expression. Like neither of them stood before the couple Lucien pivoted in place, curving into that happiness. He kissed Elain’s smiling mouth. And just like that, Nesta’s tight shoulders dropped. Turned in place, to look up at Cassian, line of her pale cheek enthralling. He wanted to stare, he didn’t- took instead the victory of sliding closer, taking the bowl easily from her grasp. To top of Nesta’s head, Cassian said, “Magical fire is more potent.” Invisibly, lost from sight entirely behind the shape of Lucien’s body, Elain’s laugh rang out again. “That’s exactly what we want, then.” Cassian made the mistake of blinking- could Vanserra move that gods damned fast, or did he really winnow?- and once more Elain and Lucien stood waiting for them, ready, only real passage of the last few moments marked by the fact that Lucien now held Elain’s hand. Nesta used her now free grip to right the line of her skirts- she’d spun out of Cassian’s arms and stormed through a hidden, clever door to her bedroom, day dress pulled on over her night things. She kept talking to him while she laced it- and Cassian had no more known where to look then as he did now, here in the heart of this teemingly happy family, even under threat. So it was with crushing embarrassment, that Cassian noticed, a fair few seconds too late, that they were waiting for him to move. Eyes bright enough to say yes, his bewilderment did not go unseen, Nesta floated the rest of the way down the stairs in step with Cassian. Elain took her other side, Lucien a close half step back. Safe. How many times had Cassian flirted and cajoled and downright asked Mor, to let him and Az close enough to do their duty? To protect her person as they were sworn to do- not, as she insisted, as a slight to her prowess, but in trust. Cassian would rather any violence come at him first because he was used to it, because he trusted that Morrigan could go for the kill while he was down- as he knew, burning certain beneath his ribs, that Nesta and Elain Archeron wouldn’t hesitate, that Lucien Vanserra would have his back.

#Cassian really this whole section: I have people?#I CAN HAVE PEOPLE?#Nesta silently eyebrow communicating with Elain:#GET IT GIRL #Cassian is just LOST #pulled a powermove on Rhys #had a real feelings talk with Nesta #illegally summoned a legion to protect mortals #Elain: we're keeping him #right??#Lucien: I thought we were already keeping him!#Elucien shifting to a real relationship #a difference seen only to Nesta #truly this chapter has everything

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officialyourdailyinspiration · 3 years

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1 And Elohim blessed Noaḥ and his sons, and said to them, “Bear fruit and increase, and fill the earth.

2 “And the fear of you and the dread of you is on every beast of the earth, on every bird of the heavens, on all that creeps on the ground, and on all the fish of the sea – into your hand they have been given.

3 “Every moving creature that lives is food for you. I have given you all, as I gave the green plants.

4 “But do not eat flesh with its life, its blood.

5 “But only your blood for your lives I require, from the hand of every beast I require it, and from the hand of man. From the hand of every man’s brother I require the life of man.

6 “Whoever sheds man’s blood, by man his blood is shed, for in the image of Elohim has He made man.

7 “As for you, bear fruit and increase, bring forth teemingly in the earth and increase in it.”

8 And Elohim spoke to Noaḥ and to his sons with him, saying,

9 “And I, see, I establish My covenant with you and with your seed after you,

10 and with every living creature that is with you: of the birds, of the cattle, and of every beast of the earth with you, of all that go out of the ark, every beast of the earth.

11 “And I shall establish My covenant with you, and never again is all flesh cut off by the waters of the flood, and never again is there a flood to destroy the earth.”

12 And Elohim said, “This is the sign of the covenant which I make between Me and you, and every living creature that is with you, for all generations to come:

13 “I shall set My rainbow in the cloud, and it shall be for the sign of the covenant between Me and the earth.

14 “And it shall be, when I bring a cloud over the earth, that the rainbow shall be seen in the cloud,

15 and I shall remember My covenant which is between Me and you and every living creature of all flesh, and never again let the waters become a flood to destroy all flesh.

16 “And the rainbow shall be in the cloud, and I shall see it, to remember the everlasting covenant between Elohim and every living creature of all flesh that is on the earth.”

17 And Elohim said to Noaḥ, “This is the sign of the covenant which I have established between Me and all flesh that is on the earth.” — Genesis 9:1-17 | The Scriptures 1998 (ISR 1998) The Scriptures 1998 Copyright © 1998 Institute for Scripture Research. All Rights reserved. Cross References: Genesis 1:21; Genesis 1:28-29; Genesis 6:18; Genesis 8:21; Genesis 9:18; Genesis 17:11; Genesis 17:13; Genesis 17:19; Genesis 35:11; Genesis 42:22; Leviticus 26:42; Leviticus 26:45; Isaiah 54:9; Ezekiel 1:28; Matthew 26:52; Acts 15:20; Acts 15:29; 1 Corinthians 26:52; 1 Timothy 4:3

#God #covenant #Noah #divine promise #Old Testament #Genesis 9:1-17 #Book of Genesis #The Scriptures 1998 #Holy Bible #ISR 1998 #Institute for Scripture Research

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feely-touchy · 4 years

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I should not need to be invisible to be present

Too small to be hurt

Too hurt to be loved

When someone asks me my name

It should come gift-wrapped from my lips

Signed and sealed

Committed to their soul

As we all harbor Alexandria in our hearts

A wealth of sensibilities

Each of us a world of our own

Books in libraries

Books of matches too

A sea of humanity

Teemingly endless

Sailed by the wits of our experiences

Chartered by acceptances

Navigated by trials

Catching the tailwinds of our willingness

When we define ourselves openly

Diving into the ethereal blue

The deepest blues

For love

Not as the harpoon dives

But as the child's hands search the tide pools

In self-discovery

We are all children

Little tykes

Terrorizing indifference

Playing at being grown ups

We're always down for a little more regression than we mean to be

In order to keep safety

We crawl

Stepping quietly

On hands and bended knees

Our little arms racing for a nuclear family

That doesn't seem to exist really

That warmth

Before the radioactivity sets in

We've all seen the blighting light before

Been gifted the knowledge of frailty

That our shoe-size now means less steps only

Less stops

Longer strides in shortening distances

Able to cross between fallouts

Hoping that we may someday be a new Noah

Instead of Jonah

That, to God, we may be invisible

Able to duck out of attendance

Find safety in numbers

Unionize with one another

I want to add my voice to the chorus

Loud and clear

Without practice

Without fear

I want to be seen hurting

Then be loved

I want to love too

Everyone who is worthy

Everyone

That invisible you

I want my heart to be hurt free

A hostel against hostility

So when someone asks me my name

We can share it

Forever

Contradicting and elucidating

In both directions

#poem #poetry

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w00wzerz · 5 years

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My re make of the Frank and Karen hospital scene (Punisher S2) Scared For You.

Frank's entire face pulsed beat by beat, matching the rhythmic thuds of his heart. Still caught in his daze, his eyes remained sealed as his mind wandered teemingly. Although the doctors have done a pretty damn good job at stitching it back up, the pain remained entirely severe.

Maybe this is how Billy felt.

Playback of this thought latched onto him, seems they finally found a place to land. To avoid the loud repetitions, Frank peeled open his eyes tediously, allowing them to adjust to his surroundings. Taking in the sight of the empty hospital room, the fog of his blurred vision began to wither away with each slow blink. Until the sight of Karen in the seat beside him forced his breath away. And at that moment he wanted nothing more than for his eyesight to be taken once again. Frank noticed the growing appearent wrinkle right on the edges of Karen's piercing blue eyes as they always did when she was concerend. He wondered if they only appeared when she was around him.

"Frank? Frank?" Her frantic breaths increased its pace and without knowing it a tear leaked from her eye. Distraught played about on her face, not by Frank or his actions, but she had already come to terms with her feelings for Frank. Losing him was one of her deep fears and he knew that. As he felt the same.

All Frank could bring himself to do, was turn away. He hated the man he had become, yet unbeknownst to him, Karen had already set out to love and accept him as he was. A monster or not.

"Just walk away Karen," he mustered up the courage to say "I think it would be better for all of us if you did."

A smirk crept onto her lips "Now you and me both know - you can't scare me off that easy." Chuckling at her own words she reached out to run her slim soft fingers on his newly stitched scars. She had seen him in pretty bad shape before, but for some reason she felt personally responsible for this one. If she had only chosen to stay by his side when they last spoke upon his visit to New York.

"Shit," she cussed to herself "Frank, I am so sorry." Standing on her two feet she made her gesture above him. Frank's eyebrow arched when he winced from the pain "why are you sorry, Karen this didn't have anything to do wit - "

"Shhhh," Karen tediously ran her finger tips through his silky black hair before running smoothly across his bruised bottom lip, landing onto his chin. Karen thought strategically, moving in slowly, with each inch she took, it seemed time had followed - almost as if time itself was waiting patiently for what was to happen next.

Still calculating her motion, Karen made sure to land her lips softly to avoid hurting him. It felt like a game of tag. Frank desperately followed her lips, matching her movements ever so gently. They scanned each others mouths in search of the perfect moment to land their kiss, until Karen pressed swiftly, yet sensually. Their lips felt foreign, they both had been dying for this moment right then and there and noone in the world could ruin it.

"Aw you guys are so cute!" Amy barged in, agent Madani not to far behind.

The end.

(I stumbled upon this cute Kastle art and decided to name this fanfic after it. Also please feel free to subscribe to my website for more Kastle material.

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heykav · 4 years

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Minu Cinélu/Nils Petter Molvær: SulaMadiana review | John Fordham's jazz album of the month | Music

Minu Cinélu/Nils Petter Molvær: SulaMadiana review | John Fordham’s jazz album of the month | Music

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This duo’s sonically colourful, teemingly inventive album splices its title from the west Norwegian island of Sula and a popular synonym for the Caribbean island of Martinique. Nordic ambient trumpeter Nils Petter Molvær has origins on the former and Mino Cinélu, the former Weather Report and Miles Davis percussionist, has family from the latter. If the intertwining of those far-flung…

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#culture #Jazz #Music

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almostlikepoetry · 7 years

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This is an attempt towards my own courageous undertaking of freeing Creatives from their own grips of indecision (an excerpt from the Facebook group: Almost like poetry).

| Writers Block |

There has long since been a discussion among Humans™ surrounding the difficulty of initiating enough momentum to begin “The Writing Process.”

For the duration of this collective conversation, a commonality has emerged, converging individual opinions with the attributes of an actual blockade, or a barrier, that the teemingly passionate struggle to surmount and surpass.

Just as we can all agree this analogy is simply a metaphor unifying the shared experience of difficulty to remedy our hesitance, we can also agree that this “Writing Block” is not like a closed road, imposed by some elected, authoritarian official with intent to serve and protect. It’s not caution tape used to segregate some unauthorized territory, nor is it like a vicious brigade of pirates taking pleasure in gatekeeping buried treasure.

No real block actually exists, save the self-imposed block of behavior modifications we insist on instituting, based on our crude understanding of society’s expectations of us.

Unexpectedly, “The Writing Process” truly begins with an exercise in understanding one’s “self.” Setting aside the tools used for scribe, it’s prudent to address how one perceives the expectations of society and how heavily they allow those collective opinions to direct ones choices and voice.

There are many rules society as a whole has agreed upon, beneficially indoctrinated and imposed with expectations for us to follow, like obeying health codes in the LDR rooms of a hospital, but it’s important not to adopt this motif of standard setting for curating one’s own personality and voice. The hesitance that surfaces when attempting to form our own expression is a misconception of the need for our peers acceptance or the fear of facing consequences if they don’t approve of what they read.

Many creatives well know the soul-groaning urge to surface and purge a product of weight and worth. Unlike a woman’s pangs pre-birth, where epidurals and cesareans are used to ensure the product produced is perfectly unscathed and unbruised, you don’t need to preserve your works potential by preventing it from possibly being birthed with abnormalities.

These procedures for health are great for the sake of saving babies and mothers, but the works of silent dictation laid on a blank page can be born unformed or misshapen, placed in a draw, and forgotten. There is no pressure to account for the words you bring into this world.

They may stay locked away for many years, laying untouched for nobody to see, but with your subconscious continually surveying the landscape for a piece of inspiration to complete the thought, you’ll eventually pull that dusty page free, breath upon it some fresh perspective, and watch the work miraculously take its first breathe. The years between creation and full animation is of no consequence and is a process only seen by the creator.

Be fearless when venturing to speak your voice, and courageous enough to antecede perfection. This life is nothing but a small collection of seconds, each measuring reflected light off atmospheric particles with different absorptions being directed through your iris. Realizing the miraculous facet of your own occurrence in time is enough meaning you will ever need to justify your own writing craft.

So, if you want to write and feel the pain of creation rise up and inspire you to sit and think, realize your own value to decide what is worth saying and know it’s enough to make a mistake or form something incomplete. Stop letting the expectations and responses of society guide your voice. Remove the block from your mind’s eye, envision something precious, and write the following:

________________________________________.

#writer #writing #writers block #writers community #writers corner #poet #poem #poetry #spilled ink #spilled thoughts #inspiration #musings #almost like poetry #benjamin lee hopper #benjaminleehopper #writing techniques #writing tips #workshop #writing workshop

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zari-olawale · 7 years

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Last week l celebrated my 50th birthday. I was surrounded by well wishes, sentiments, greetings and celebratory thoughts from family, friends and social media. I basked under the Canary Island sun with my life partner Sharon on a catamaran. The Atlantic ocean was too inviting not to jump in and l did. The clear and teemingly rich salty water energised me. I went on two jet ski rides which were a mind blowing rush. I felt grateful for all the love and affection that has made it possible for me to realise such a momentous milestone in my earthly experience thus far. We returned home to the frigid climes of the British weather. Suddenly, the flu blindsided me as it hit me with the ferocity of a juggernaut. I have not had the flu in years. It was like a rabid manifestation of a body snatcher. I was in the body, however, l was unable to control anything. What a most disconcerting state of affairs! I was confused as to the contrast. Last week l was enjoying a dream and now l am enduring the opposite. The mind is a tricky thing to handle at the best of times. It tried to twist my thoughts like foil. It shape shifted. It attacked like a demented animal. I felt vanquished. And then, a sign appeared in the guise of an email from an author whose books are my primary foundation to the spirituality that l call my own. The email arrived so swiftly that l truly believe, that the gamut of perceived personal failings and the desire for clarity prompted it to come my way. I read every sentence with passionate gentility. The writer shared an unforgettable truth; It is about gratitude. The world has become, by and large, a thankless reality with a twist of uber entitlement. Children don't seem to express gratitude. Adults seldom, if ever, share it and in the market place, need l say more! There is anger, resentment, jealousy and a host of other negative emotions that act as normal. Any wonder that societies are fragmenting? That's just my side note. The author shared these few excerpts to open the door to what gratitude can accomplish when chosen; "God said to me, "If you’ll just turn everything around in your mind with regard to those areas of your life that you say are 'not working,' you’ll find they are actually working. "They are working in a way that may not be entirely clear to you but will absolutely take you where you want to go. “But if you declare them to be not working, not part of a perfect process, you will get stuck at that level of the process and never get out of that level." So I said, "How do I not get stuck at that level of the process where I'm still working it out?" God said, "I'm going to give you a tool—Gratitude. Go to sleep every night and move through your every moment of every day, being grateful, and experience the fullest expression of gratitude for exactly what's happening in your life right now—no matter what it is." A billion blocks moved inside me as l read these words. Is it the same for you? Gratitude is a radical tool of eternal sunshine. Another excerpt will put a finer point on it: "Gratitude changes responses like anger, frustration, resentment and resistance into an openness that allows you to accept the next step toward what you'd like to express and experience in your life. I’ve learned that when something isn’t going the way I think it should be going, or when I’m not experiencing the outcomes I’d like to experience in any area of my life, I just allow myself to move into gratitude, and I feel grateful for the challenge and opportunities it provides… Then a miracle happens." I breathe deeply in and out as the truths embedded in these sentences burst like water filled balloons on a hot summers day. How refreshing to realise that a tool exists that can neutralise any kind of negative emotion! Gratitude. I have chosen to saturate my life, work and experiences with radical gratitude. It's a choice we all have. Now, that you have been introduced to the most effective tool ever, what will be your decision? Embrace it or suspect it? I am grateful for you and l am grateful for me. Imagine if we all chose to be grateful en-masse for the littlest to the grandest and just revel in the natural miracles that follow! Wouldn't that be a world changed for the better? Wouldn't it be a world open to Love, creativity, kindness, purpose, worth and divine belonging? All through the highway of gratitude. And by the way, when you choose to embark on this journey try the slow lane. It's the scenic route. Thank you for coming along this far with me. Let gratitude shape and reshape you life forever... (The author and the excerpts used here are Neale Donald Walsh who gave the world the Conversations with God trilogy.)

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libidomechanica · 3 years

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All, books

“‘All, books, but mine for my love,

my love. Are all please you must now by the welcome, and mists are show ripe ears were what then would I give or to

let these brought in the device but thine is the

air; ill see the short hours after and lay with unconfinèd wings,’ all that tilted tiny house arrivd. As the Judas had a mother die than our devotes the grave, o there,” two widows, they grew? “You—tell us what to say, ‘Your

mouth with a Laugh would never again, in vain? This mans seen across it—and star through you do, too, I diligently even so doth in beauty glide, a teemingly very flower this heaun the skies,

innumerable to eat; so Philomel become, farewell, but found a things was almost divine? Tucked beneath him, of

the power to do? Was to me, and then buried with Surma back, see it like a Crescent the prisoners prayr,” it see body: “what, if never crack your to make to the great

city thick withal an answer vague as frail ones friends, go your secret still, with you but the shadow to my sight when we were down, sir. . but scarce defeated of, what man has

varnishd out, What is fidelity. Before, my ever hope to Vivian-place, because,

fair starves sits down. On thinks my luve I ken brawlie my tongue, the notes, while I should have one,’ but who pass; it suffering underground, without his spirit-voice, a

though God in His After all her grave: and the tree when the letters, was her his

scythe and the mind. And Temple be destroyd. They figure

our fathers watch.”

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 6 #145 texts

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libidomechanica · 6 years

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Untitled Composition # 3705

In this, som tyme þrowe best boke of one who Dies, that her? Come hom last, I say þe, as to noȝt, Hadet wyth in both we suffer To dele hym after oþer; For which doth dwell That some rais’d her heaven help me, quoþ þe meré wyf, dame, This fingers

reaching pass; Thou letters! It – Ding, dong, bell. Iesus blessing, But Juan to laȝe and wyth clene, And I who liue ylike, where embracing your sport he watz þe flore, And fruictfull flockes be drowe.

Wherein. A teemingly drinking to leave, and then the summer by To comfort and me here þy pay. Þe wyȝez in þis flesh and tune my pype Vnto Dianaes train Of valiant louer? My own life yonder do denounced togeder conductor tapping names who costume put it may happed ful was haughtily he sayde: ‘So god as well

As any men ben mery amongst them settez be fetter the glooms Of decoratives folȝande, as he were lie and chucklings; And teldes walk all dropping nature, to live.’ Jean Arthurus day he fnast Þat a holy churchyard with the view, All my songez, Tapitez tyȝt to þe fyrst words ease, His gold or dim the apprentice Janekyn, and go to be gay,

Rage, rage with sympathy. The taverna crammed withinne; Gret perhaps he’s pursu’d, Nor, in thou, my face, Felt the bride; For, God and resource (For such, as any mention, he, Made answers ‘Death.’)

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libidomechanica · 4 years

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Untitled (“Suwarrow”)

Suwarrow. Undergrown with the feast into my breathe sweet flowers, on the Walls, austered with youth as she saw the bride, might substantial laudanum or “black sacrament. Her wild creation well or plains where not dependant Phoebus watching green: she count, and goes black or

blunter two first released, she looked to passion was sicke, but sought he spun their lives. And lodge such a Prison make up to his own bride with a fear this very reason know. so dead,” Leaves Towards you will no-no. but who can loves spheres and brighter drove him in thee dear. Meticulous, and

truculent, was long I stood the blind Fortune fly to her wished to mee: no, no, no, no, no, my Deare, let bloom, who might sidelong the potent rule of no great Anna! Saw so sweet pharmaceutical bottle- conjurer, John Murray, why should scarce availe, his remorseless Lycius was

fully blown, shewing limbs of love the ware of teemingly unkindness; to enrich felt an individual. My bosom of fifteen, the heard to alight? Is much is fled, and heart away to a wilderd; for her Honours shout most neglects, thou from the blushing

thus her Breast witnesseth: what are come, to live, ridiculous, and felt, how dark December, warnd may be calls, that I am is grand Swift to where: leanders senseless. is impediments, with Trumans name speckled thrusting into the Blaze of Diamond, my good name?

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libidomechanica · 4 years

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“rising moon is the tuck-in of all her”

The hire, where to wood, he forests far from home, rising moon is the tuck-in of all her feet and interesting isnt the pensife Damme out o h—ll. By the mone of these flower enjoyd the sea has the childe: who touchd temples lewd, mutterd his speed of moonlight to ire. In this mortal door, or dusky brake. You stolen light and left so sweet fruit to beware, she said he, “Look how his slaues, the fiery night, minstrel galley now grated the proud titles boast the fought, of my lay, like as of our liberty. Cleopatra-like he show eye and state! Blue like a clouds refused those by Phoebean dart, strike the slant of death the elect salámán heardgrome, I feared under what shoulden she weave my brain the liefest boye,” how we pronounce, sometime shepheard, which heaunly iewell. The dancers dancing with a raucous trill. You quiver, and it with the clicking his hands … whose princes do burn so farre out of the eastern gates, and smild and we were, pitied wouldst be namd, this to the lonely graduate, still weepe, increase to a mans fear! Today when someone steppe some have done, exactly in the running across there were closing of thy foolish fashion: but the western gate, wherefore no longer proue; the sexiest meal of your eyes, like far-blown rain, my doubts appeared his complain, her breast wheel echoes rang mere follye be the holy Saint Charitee, that roars between us at the loves and in their will I remember than stock thee vnkind, that thou dost foist upon you: so be your dear I have playne field turns but with little bits of Loves lands— the children, and wanton in the Dew-bespanglings, and the elected into his, and sweetbread a green borders underne ath a wink, but they to the lulld wind is turnd a foe in hopeless cloudy rack, south-westward to me— come— this is a line you must needs twenty years have frequent reply, marrying and sweet is teemingly shore: but shoots me a peace he musicall: and digging her darling, leapd oer them round against his bridge, and a hush with a live with great Pan account it sits to tell the ghostlike the gourd, and darkend; like new strong; when he cries, and wounded old dreamd, this shy sway down that festering cup, and a celestial heat to light as many water; for the patch.

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