It Is Oak...Troll Is With Me....
J
James McLain
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Scared worried harried
mind hers jumps on
whispers
always hears
howe will she suckle young
chestless buckled in
good eye used as spare
spotting one
he tries to flee
bodyguard hauls his rude
flutes back
heard this mind mime
of she you hurd yourself
gasp....mulling
sitting on him
his words
muffled she eats
basking lost in his
newly ground treat is this agony....
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