dry so laters

Here is where it’s driest, her, drier than an Arabian fume. Foolish feat fed in, trumped and dusted; my yearn smashed in shards of shards upon. Gum pout of sorts. Caked with confusion, tart by error. A plate fault buttressed with cherries.
Dimple save me with your caffeine lakes. Text boat me sin inky ships.
Pipe out. Egg a fried slice and share a yellow tear through the mess that is your existence.
Ah the joys that non-hour love so fondly.