She Loved Him To Much
J
James McLain
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Nowhere is that look on his face,
she enjoys looking down at him.
Life is a constant rhythm.
Watching, slender forearms flexing
and blue veins that bulge.
Me, myself and I, alone we and the.
On the farm as,
We daily.
One time a day, two times a day,
except on Saturdays.
Everyday at the same time I say.
Bu şiiri puanla
Henüz puan verilmemiş