Gimme all of your fingers

Ten digits.

Give ming all of your discarded footwearcould anyone pay you enough to wear them?

Have you not rattled ming and my sense of equilibrium? With your shiny pixels and masking circles.

I thought that maybe, you could re-shape ming.  Give ming new directions and new angles to dissect.  Mercy, your cunning footsteps always elude me.

Oh, I beg of you and your Cornell College Widow, those big red fumes that could skin ming alive.

At least you could take the Ravens for a writing desk.

And close the chapter on your premature departure.

How do I convince you.   What will it take for you to believe that you’re important to ming.  You’ve imprinted your hindsight and your post-production onto ming.  Even after I stop running after you and your tight calves, your soaked jerseys, you’ll still have a hold on ming.

So, with this syrup of diatoms or something similar, you immerse ming,

to something like the bold and the restlessly in motion.

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