Dreams seductively stroke my face in the night air, waiting to be inhaled deeply – my summer love’s perfume. The sleep in my body caresses my shoulders, hands that will submission of peaceful rest to places ever moving. She comes and we sleep.
I am comment number nine on david crowder’s latest post.
PS. Give me money, so I can go.
freak
Andrew, I am dying that I don’t have my checkbook and have no way to get it to you- unless you take credit cards. If you are able to go I will be sending you money when I get back to Georgia. Killer header-look, by the way. You’re in my prayers!