#Cloud and August: Thread 1 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

libidomechanica · 7 months ago

Text

Untitled Poem # 12543

A ballad sequence

Where to wasted o’er the Pussy my love doth cover, drives us one. My students, descend the sea-lover, he would

run fast it rest as the radio and he the way, do not know. Rage, rage again, or horse is wide world except

possibly for long-hair’d page in this thro’ the bonie lass gang. So looks with the hay was happy, if they ate with their roots,

accessible alone all shall seek to harken what I might, I fear to mine is she look’d about the plank, and straitest

bestow. Or mocked; the covenant the tree breast doth my griefs, and show’d me to come, the Lady of Shalott. I brought; and

near death is gone for myself to win! To believe you I under clouded; fall’n like your thou pine to yet so different

language of pride o’ my bosom of the web, she fled ever canna be your mom did not to break of death, while the

Ring but unthrifts! Just painted from side by sidewalks in California we went wrong. I have sung and with speed. To go

wastes, what man I do it make your leaves and laughs for the selves, they roam, by creeks and mend! Coming that has close. Thou dost, what

is won. The sun; then called a thing in all-resemblance to play a plait upon our breath-filling up in a transgression

by the horses be; and weak; as a man who know how these Eyes and false in body and nights—and each muscles, tears.

Of Tyrant. She took some mother gums their stars or when western she stand trembled: and told how the current Gold, not that

was. I dreamboat when you were dark. Is even grace, he reach, on the Fortieth spare Arm-chair beside remote Shalott.

In martiall sports I have earth upon thy soul on Cloe blush’d: Euphelia’s praise, and your lips, drops of Pleasure pass; with lullaby, as men to her heart alone, and thou fair Cyprian

flow’rs newblown desire to it, even dead, and thus did appear, that and to me? Nothing like-hat reads her the Pacific seas for their way down without respect. And insane

distractions have left in my rhymes, one freely, as men thro’ the think, my pretty though yet, till at himself into the Town munificence is ample warrant thee as the

night; o looks fresh with sweetner art; pleasure lay in early objects find out a shadows, ’ said loves always meant and back again? That I feel, across the crammed fowl come nae mair hae

Queene of brass are immortal, nor Hope dare a comfort best or faither, wi’ purfles and thence the Ring burn and a’! Is in Boston, writing, can yet thee and very weel waled

were for the eggs both have no comrade Lucy climb the shall adorn beauty and of the lone stone—and against mind. Compared with their babes have left us first, more abused: auguste

for whom we can win; I rather to leave the dear: ae blind; nae ferlie ’tis you here is lovers late and the powd’ry snow that matter what can say or lose. The human heard her name.

Which hath thoughts, doe beard less rhyme. Be overgrown with the mesh, that we escape. And whate’er she looked on, and dame, the path

is but with pride, and harmony her sleep, and the bloated wide; but Phillis was queen; but I’m as from you, you content

and years they stoon? Thee with a broken. Find she nippit her blush rebuked to blub like little park with Maiesty. On the

radiant air how courtesy, she falls, that I dared, come upon the world dreamed I was a Christmas cactus, blood! My measures,

but love, to secure his way he kisses these I better; and asked, after being so. Hears had open fields are

them, and in his bow, and you first came at play last night. He would sweetest sweetly endite, which doth dishonour heads never

with answer campfires in the mere still that, passion of world. My lyre I tune, that is so. She wild scatter’d cowslips

bedeck thy hands you triumph yet; because of soür ale some stoon; whan the hogs. But never I played and each other.

And where is to me by my faither, hammer sayes, to grace it is confused it, and with his leave t’ adore in you. Your thread a little Robin, take this, and soul, live i’ th’

fire. Twas but a wondrous House of sighing to flowery lap of evolution, he tore his trees go limp a voices, even gracefull Pitty Beauty’s rude disdain.

At night, since, spite of warm and gaze at the land whatever and setting you opened, each other in death decree the

very life that loosed our heart commits such expense, of bold seer in one another’s Arms—all see despite of nastiness.

Thou setst a bate between each wound and shave been the soft aloft riding of the Word of Love did appeared. Muscles

running, here a mourning near, to choose never setting soul can be anything I desire my soul can hide and

shave been different voice: next Corinna, for men, its sweets person to thy breast, and said: sunk, then most the root and I’d

plunged down to Camelot. Do the light me my Julia, weep, for never grey-headed faith or hopeless wounds both love. Woman

love thy many flower, untried each side; the current Gold, not even blue-eyed fly to the Soul is parted, and

gaze on so fond will color of the Fiend do nae mair: hers are a’ my Nanie, O. Is evening, my smart, let the wind and

draw profit while you and I remain as it was when it grows over to learn delights to weaveth steady, as hell.

And went on her ringlets, this is not you appease love’s death’s eternal law; and yet thy Impress you here the air. All

the brag o’ her last poetic voice as will be as braw and smooth rocks, and in pursuit and something. It was its

spectacles and ourself a draught, I fear our vertues show seems, they homeward to steel; others—it favorite scene is but with

lullaby my young, but fie! That used the lines of A Love is not mine’ or thine own fear no fate for your hath presse, what

I am under tower’d Camelot. So, the one by one not the moonlight or come in the green dale: but were married

at a’! Say, are you sing! The westlin wind blaws loud, thro’ the saddle-leather, over smooth fare ill on the sob took

your love. That do I owe you? With loves a man love: rich longer the limits here? That thou art to giue my touch your

electric meter I will but love, what love, do not inflate and ourself be less brows shall swear! Where each to its welcome!

On warm sea-scented beach; three willingly o’er-arching twa laugh and burgher, lord was left to us: and heav’nly fire.

Catkins of heaven-like Chrystalline: sweet in some the summer’s noon clouded; fall’n like the rider as can the Fawn at

the moment, and nothing admired, wants to be, die singing in the radiant air how the cherye was the kitchen called

before peoples should pass, and sang Sir Lancelot. Thou wilt vsurping late I find reply i fear no fate for you miss,

or the wold and married and meet in sad, its spectacles and though that she companion, mysteries molder, the mazy

web she willow lay a plait upon a thinking on while they came red. To a lady in a mile on me or

half sight to mine on first came love- hat relationships with Her I lost its hue, sickly ghost- towns, almost ardent

articular song of this excess, eat up thy calm-blooded, time-settled overtrail’d the shut in a five pound not a

choice Myrrha for the tillages the new rays there’s to Love must have a twilight in you. Conceal it in the same;

the mart’s or the one by one, intend a zealous devotion deep sorrow she turmoil of evolution, as ony

brat o’ wedlock’s bed, full meaning in desires, all shot: a kinder mistress, and Humbleness! That my suff’rings,

and bruise against this closed as forfeit to heavens you to turn my head, and discretion that roses growin’ yet. Us

both time to praise, which they both times a day, the curse of many scorne of all that piece a word. And True Love, I hear

not,—this is not fewer; growing dove. As tenderly i’m guessed this is not to gie ane fash. Anthea, when I was

a flower in one general best. Finally, perch,—did you— because with toil, I haste; your will never more time it’s so

beautiful Pussy you play, my little thing lemonade and construed me and cool ye all which one tower’d She, Without

respect. Whatever a-spending all that face nor beauty’s fading away, come in the heathed daffodilly

trembled, spiking as still has truly love could heard, nor I to think of thine would the fluorescent of it in the facts.

In the Lady of Shalott. She knows; yet none as I used to the moon, the bee upon itself and death is six days

should keep them not agree, where she is stand watchman ever freshly bleed, yet still the child crying at my bonie boys play.

And the chaplet and aff like fair Syrinx in traffic on the warm and floated his Authority falls, thanne hadde it

no rinde; whan the heaven that hide, by self-love, you know how you a tin heard; his Soul can be heard of Love flee, and

Humbleness! What dies without the still thee will I gladly die? A heart i am never to fight, old age. Whan those manger

makes breake more their own, to thee— in thy heart, I shall adorn, when I answer—then called before, a joy above the

Rain of Sorrow, has e’en right press will never hae Queens upon the hell within, applying fears in loue. Into bed,

for then would you can seem fair, wi’ a mate in heaven clear brows. At day-break from Camelot. With separate self, but fie!

Has seized my flowers, and comes nae loved you to looks withoute long fairy, beneath to fill that lighter knit into a

Greeks’ love, found, She mightier arms pale death; such folly. The human for your vertues show; so child, today two world surmise.

I carry it in my heart in their cheek and of Love’s flame, vilely; her vow, she’s misses the deep in their cheek,

while he instep too: and thro’ narrow Cell? Chanted me for blooming in their locks of men do, where Lugar flow’r to

disconsolate at trundling cherry. In my backpack in bed you beware of the lighted match youth and tenor of the

Hand of his life is to sing; they scorn’d like a razor he willingly Aptitude; wise Head— clean as clear song sheep and

faith of all I ever looks behind, a dream. Upon thy fading tells me out of these Four who submits touch soothe thunder’s

roll. Sin, he tries rosbif. Sun: beneath th’ Atlantic roar.—Send it merit, and, and the roses form. Me she

wants to be, die singing old shipwrecked days still that little isle a shall not know. That be fair Syrinx return! Your

she in thee, Dear, did was long, long, bawling eyes, one hand on its louder o’ the food for peace for where I but with the

riverside and through the Fount of Justice a Seráb. Let me get her for me; but had long so she did our roots

together than garment at his seldom seen the distance. In search of the distance. In simmer is near? Across knight, toot!

Come to choose a May-lady to go together—that which husband, like to laughing disconsolate at the leavest

those, when you grow. Singing O darling over grieve my love, you drink a drap o’ dew, sweet in my fragile visitor.

And ourself upon the same, thinking but a dreamed I was youth return! False in me, till that rises up like a man

who left in my life which here be, with Perilla: all attending disconsolate and she is blurred. Just as a saints,

no sooner had past reason’s rule now like these rebel power? Tho’ your rung, he, who can heart. Taming to East Hampton

and a day I prize your Mother night, and further thee more friendship much of Counsel—whereby Love comes Sorrow! As solemn

as unpleasantly definitive as frail as flowers, and overmuch of all men%u2019s souls for those sand-paths.

Oh were overweight intelligences of yon riverside and life that wad been a girl, for Forty Morning in desire, the marks were the light, thou shall suffer death! She sentence then, good-bye! Against fear no fate for your arms a

wet napkin by her boddice sae faithful vows, acceptation. Ambrosia-like, are your lungs. Wood a Piggy-wig stood with there entreat one sparkled on mince, spite of stone withered angel, singing, can soothe thread into her need, by sun and

fold of your face disarray less plaints, no sounds both wound, from the gowd and headlong fields to reproving body Yet I set the moon was as if the purely, as we see hung in deep is my objects you counsellor, the shallow still my good!

No feat which is traditionally alone, so much with his life as gude advisement fancy but Folly to like planets rotating into it and by thee. On mince, spite of my false bond that until we ceases— I recall not love

and clear—neither there are whate’er she lo’es sae weel aff of your shrine, when gout and I, alone to harken what the dive back not the pearl garland wanton- scented tress in an open Hand. Watching to Us, nor plain; as the footmarks, wind-

wafted from behind, go sleep, the mother for thy sweetner art; pleasure scawled still losing of the other unnested through gorges unexplore they seem like a lantern, Child, thanne hadde it no stoon; whan the wind’s Eye its speed. And Mankind’s

a crowd, forty years ago when western she start with the wellfed withoute rinde? Past, known; all that ken me, on me because come sweet in her sae sleeve! When I was its sad in their babe from under his Counsel’d, from us—and early world

well have profanity and bloomin’ and know me very weel waled were fairy, all beneath a wild Moor, the crammed fowl come woe, I care hath pressure of brass are left the stones of face, and you out of bold Sir Lancelot. Light to say,

Just this you and thy charity to go alone to her head, which it is so much they be Just and bowers or what I can, I with bearded metre of my miserable males who submits to stones of her desire is, to loved, a very

life. Climb high, doth my music of the Signs of how true that she willing to upheave they went everything light—or dark—years longer is double key, whistle a little park with rust, she is rescued. Is it that hands, that close thy mamie,

shall lover, her devout chagrin doth well believing Tyranny and you thinks hersel very weel aff, is raking of the Matin-bell, and Death for love thee, to be love yon Lilac fair, still losing when body’s end? That solitary

song sang your face new. I’ll count thee and Crown withouten and his moment to know that set, a man’s pride o’ sinny noon; gie me there was no vocabulary forgets, her place was neither spied them out, not even morning, the

soft and declared my firmament to melt; the murderous, bloom, she is in Boston, writing, can yet the wind blaws louder parts. Woo’d and fails, despairing lotion hold yours of ours, take the castle wa’; and the courage quails and plenishing

over my Sappho’s break his failins, ’twill pleasure, conveys it impart; which, euen of the martiall sporting fairy-gifts fading myself of the current Gold, not even know her face of god look for you are my will; let reason hated,

and declar’d too far; but to me; no others but that French novel? Whan they guessed that least once to tarry: I ken the kitchen came in me, the hue, sickly to hear, ever for me; but Woman lovest thou lovely leans, the scent with

lullaby now time then an old desk, dusty for those, when thou be denies; she to secure his Camelot. Put mine; ’ both of us, and fever! Sometime she prophet David,—david, speak to injured bird stirring against this every Wise

Man form should live that dies along thee. Sunk, then, your head moving far away, and then, your conjectures to comes nae love- hat reads verse and joy be wi’ the ones the Matin-bell, and man’s head up in not those whom those manger makes and height moony,

inlet—warm, seabathed, I’d grow complain turn on that their eyes of the day, and something and full of children most they track’d themselves. Thou who will never yet had bound our soul of the shirt sours my smarts, with than going on darkness.

Ah, my bonie, sweet fruit, and away. And look back over her Heart, most rich no more fun of my cure, do there was a little

Robin, take refuge they shallop flitteth silken sail’d, Woo’d and measure, fie! Our souls in its own. But at twal’ at

night or come aged star, gleam. As humours sudden-opened to do thy flower upon her eyes flash’d into her hair:

but thee is but after news. And rain. And on the pale cheeks bespread stories of endless as shed on spirits dried up

and sunglasses many, O, the truth with my darling like to the bundle of this poor. Food; reproved. She shriek’d aloud,

and fair Cyprian flower amang then, no matter to gi’en the blue sky over though my heavy sky of the

sad bosom, thou be what it is my despair of loneliness which stately true and the yellow woods among? When a

man who lovers of whose lightless seas that hands your face that, like fairy, of you, in white bed; lie, fisted like an injured

bird We texts written into her boddice sae bashfully down the gay roses proclaims olives on the wind and

sang Sir Lancelot. College yet, the young people spoken. Intend a zealous pilgrimage is broke: what thou keep’st me

tender fades away her mourn when the same; the genteel and wine with the hand then that keeps mine is my judgment forget

the world except peace forms a two- part canon? That relation— lost, of mortal, nor Hope dare a single down to

Camelot; outside than garment at his fires, and therefore she is intelligence, this rain is overmuch one another

like old church last—a match made, t’ acquit such a closer or farther the Polish Rider occasionally

apparelled, she let her wide world conveys it is, below, then quak’d, the sweet love my Nanie, Of my study Nature’s.

Its Salt, and what’s my penny-fee, and gain the mirror blue the Flame. Ex-boyfriendship much can make fun of me why. Than

I have love had been a girl, for that will seek to harm in them whereon my back like allay, so gone not so vigorously

he might; a double wi’ the fire domed blacke becoming, and with there on the world we said: I never read strange.

The bells rang merrily and fireflies home to changed at the deer wounds adrift from behind, a dreamed I was an August

night or mind to this terrible Love lives with the raptures hence, and bloody clothes will buy me she didn’t want to

thee, and voice: next Corinna, for verily lov’d, and see the market girls, the water, warmth- given, fire and Crown away

fast, our hour of fitful dreamed I was an All Night, teaching red sunset thro’ the long field yellow-leaved water

will as solemn as unpleasantly still thy image should not to breath of love thee. And Death with young, but inflate and

ye, ah, may ye feel his course you eft with Thee Annihilationship based on the yellow. I poured him another

person whom pale corpse she flowers be still the actors are, it seems to embrace, he rode his trees looked in the weight

intelligence and joy—what man I do it woo’d and fire. Of many a wanton base delights met on a willows Paris

and courtesy, she come in the moon, the lines of your neglect: they track’d the devil laughs for the tape-recorder,

falling; recall wisdom? What I can, I will be back and quiver in the answer with the man who knowing, that draw

and both day and a woman love of our lips toward laughed at a’! Echo of clamorings passing against they see sweet

boughs amang then. But he’s ta’en like a butter fire in the dread the Lady of Shalott. A furlong field nods its her.

Sun of the comes quickly girls which is what cause she did stand, showing warm and courteous, were to obliterate yourself

but must have a yong suster fer biyonde the arrows casts, making as if the light of the place, and ye, ah, may ye

feel some marvel then, sweet hopes and far below? Twas they have, extreme; a bliss: fie, please me mair hae Queens upon the night

we are very weel aff, Thus lullaby now a’ tint, since all enjoyment I’ll answer—then called before I ever

hopeless willing into the moonlight— quick-changing, nor plain; as the same or half betray thee and glows, come when both to

reproduce the iron age, goethe’s so beauty’s rude disdains the raven and swift up thy calm-blooded, time-settled

for text. Free as an All Night will seem’d to consume us all, at any rate she danced by the lingering mine, robbing

and down from under friends—as thus we meet here, and through, sweet face a furnace sealed, the crown of pearlins and were to go

to warmth-given, and wickedness; my love, and ocean I could entwine: while claver bloom, she hath built it within Thee.

An hour, wi’ purfles and ruin’d loved you add the abject fear I am not be nay, we’ll see despite of his Moon of

its earnest glance apace. And heaven’s Dome is you and might we glide to be ador’d, as a tomb of his slain; thought; nor

Liberal, with sweetest sweet, and the tenderly i’m guessed at the lake’s supposed to the face again, in vain adorn beauty

which missing you do not disappeared. Bearing the right and wickedness; my lord was gravity, I’ve falling your

Mother unnested through the Forty Morning tride, pleasing the better returns, and two hours of two women are! Willows

white mule she rode, the air of my dove with Perilla: all as there really and Justice grew. Or for the Pile; and

never yet had long we had never hae Queene of bright all that she meane at once should sleep, thinks she heard the brag the see;

manye be the see; manye be true, to cure a match yet made, sure and looks went on with the shutting. East-wind straitest bestow:

come woe, I can live that she could written with a steadily aglow, airport in a distant spot of thy name—lo,

the tides: now you again about it anywhere i go you are holding: now with dead in such sanity will be

as bright all true? Is familiarity breeds of face, and Mankind like a butter fire to its way, do not inflate

and the brag the many mountain roe, with green bay, rage, rage again, reach’d forth in front it fear no fate for your over-

silver speak to injure. And seemed to do it make my view; the curse is stuck in my books, blazing underneath to fill

the plank, and around remarked by care’s a faught; nor causes of endless as shed on spirit, withoute stoon? Behold that

in you. You know and stuff was cover, we were none known; I should rise like little thine age to choke him, or faithless destroy!

And still at her bower-eaves, he reaper, reaping be the planets rotating soul on me. Devise, but where Lugar

flow’rs gaily spak, the last, neglect of my sighs, and sky; wonder why in the airplane moves over cities like a

ghost-towns, almost ardent articulars are, and brought me too, he makes her to sell for camouflage and joy—what I

would drowned: I sung and insane distracts here? Time flie; he lo’es me be copartner of their garden we do cry. By a

tear, the broad clear eyes’ expense, Alas, fond tones and the Pussy you are for dowry will, and Morning nest doth among?

Of you,” she smile beams from the selves. Haste then, no matter weeds and guessing—table cluttered with the sunbeam showers. And

floats from you, you disgust, for two cheek and other on the noblest friendship, warm, and the butter for wings granted: the

sleek, and we’ll talk about them out, not the beare the Realm of Yún, and mine own, ornaments and let us play for suck

it up, it will strengthen us to touch soothe thine arms to thy bowers plucked and givings. The ways. No match ’twixt me, bent,

wigged and married! A quire of one all inheritor and hand forth unto good wine: while claver bloomin’ and thou’

free loveth, she says tomorrow? Too as woman, who’s to the Breath of my love thee do mock their Strengthen us to

the moat, stifling? Then when them clash; an auld wife, and now I am dead; he spoken. But Woman face; terror, and

tocher said to the Pussy you were your own jewel hung in default. Quite clear brow in the shore and heaven clear—neither

spied the sweetly shining its welcome, welcome! High, what I should brain, O Love, youth, mine eyes could intend, lest eyes fix’d on

Europe’s lattering the bloodstreaming, and here! Grows shalt ca’ me tyta or daddie. As drown mischance, mute, with the lute

and brow: thus wretched each other care I how frank, how can Love’s dead, tis death, rock-solid the other for sometimes a

troop of Mt. Yet give bar and a’! Toil is no more: so thou art the ba’, the bonie was no ending did appears! Half

human, all ghastly night, below the air is so much the yearned to make your virtue meet: you full of cherry. Toward laugh

when you read her lockt in her wrist to me. Which, done, for one moment fancy but Flight. Hate of his nose, with my real Flame.

What wad beguile the better; and thrum, a mere botch of the think it quite dispossess’d of The Fire—even in the played and rainy days should learn, too well deny! And sees the chant

in the mound where, from Káf to Káf reach, on the Town. When your leaves in his shield, the music was playing, Staying Venus skies, making the reach’d the camera chases the referee.

Of your arm another’s perfume. Such a close to my touch. False in life and smooth fare ill on the rest; since then, is Europe’s dying. The food tree or turned him a year the lilies of how that’s out of day with dead cold without alarms

my throe: turn and rush of my bloody, full of grace should heard, nor friend stories of desert wonder than Nanie, O: nae ither song sheep an’ kye thrive body shirt, sewn with love. I dream and praise, I fix my sin and fears in love which doth she turn’d,

and gladly die? For the see; manye be the life as gude nicht and Right; I love talking, feels the Clay of past reason, and yet thy sight. And were a lake doth dishonour misgiving anyway toward laughing e’en o’ love my Nanie, O: the op’ning

came to imagination, beyond expressionists do the Disease. Went in the heaven must go, and married at a’? Such fears to wax more be that I well the siller can be hel-driu’n from me when Cloe is making its way, do

not go away. I call that man I do suspect a coward, in wise men go and lighten to her chanting the moon, fair beamie darts. The rules broken my thumbs presume not my nursling near, to choose against the water will be disarms the

nurses nod the tomb, and men. Who kept from China who have years, distill’d from Camelot: for the Felon’s narrow: I can see, my voice tells me what can seem profanity and the pale cheeks unprofan’d by the blind; nae ferlie ’tis you ceased

the bet and forth unto me; close roses proclaims olives on the grass, beside remote Shalott. Next, lullaby, the wellfed with us, nor plaints,—I love highway too blackening, I? At trundling could. High triumph yet; because enough the

villages the end of money, wrapp’d about; then rush’d past, howling about my Wag. Nothing moment fled, approaches— Ellen passed with the vale; the gate. Wipe Thou the music, worthless without a kiss. To believing Princes, ill-reported

if Unworthy, yet, if Love one Morning’s a new bird We text, text our soul had felt a fleeting prow, and married at a’? Both the hell where will go deeply by ourself! That the bud will keep so chaste a flower! She smile overgrown

with thank all which sound nothing too as women of sweet Electra, and shave been boat, the finds his pass’d swift up that movement, one but thee: root pity may deserve the shirt you may, that fed their busy days I wanna be your suit and yon

hills beyond expressway. His altars kept from the deity to which euer she died, the airplane moves picture. Good, but he’s so beautiful; but what’s verse in your forehead against me. But mine execution. We entertainties now doth

cover the Challenge answer the early song we might will I touch. Why so large and burn. Stones and takes her eyes and peace they least do rise, which done, the heads felt him thy body shirt sours my sin and quiver in their Jewel, he tore then rush’d past,

known; all the wide eyes hath th’ Atlantic ocean I could have not—to make the Soul. It’s a stormy east-wind stretch forgets, but all I have no fair, thy sweet love, youthfull flame through the very friends, thou art? Mouth— rather than ever looks

went tower on top of a heart with many times thro’ the Bong-tree grow old. Magnets clear songs; for kissed her often go their departures to make timely, nothing into the Soul that bliss: fie, please you are looks went to snap, do them; I can

conceive myself, and speak the truth, the truth; so let them. Is that is so much the World anyone every surrogate? All this day thee; dependent onward from Camel! That assault on one’s own mine eyes were made between my heart In our

loved, is Feeding on it hath built that better hours later, running skulls, and clear song sang such sleet, an’ mosses are numbered, so thou dost, woe to tarry: I ken the new rays there: not some restrained to know I will buy me rigs o’ love God,

God acceptation. Say, are yet so different and make the quickly: not the snow hath the middle of tyrants’ crests and four graceful use of yonder why in thy calm-blooded, time- past, however, fair Is ample was its speed.

Decline and falsely what matter the boughs perfect the field sleep, and told men who fry in your mitt not that puzzled morn.

Could singing old shipwrecked dreamed I was a nail, because you rise? And balcony, by garden, all the hand thousand

till action; till heaven that you move so beauty’s graceful use of your diviner heart most perfect the solitary

song we might; o look at his fires; the Lady of Shalott. Scenes to give way; why dost wake elsewhere, I said to make

it no rinde; when the Nude Descending all her face lies upturned since erst her arms fit you with the bet and me Dead,

depriv’d of either one more a winner be at trundling out of rock. Weary with folded too, and in fresh sin, he

tries to grow! Put mine for you shames and her cheek and piece is a precious, just the Lady of Shalott. Like a wretched

metre of Futurism just as at home to my heavy artillery to picture feared; and years as nice; reads hersel

very moment, and equipp’d a Camel! Expect change each in the wings granted: there! All in the snowy bank the

fish leaping be the knight, because her head moving faire afterwards you are for her lips I’ll answer—then called the gate.

As tender nurses nod the helmet and daughter’s drifting the worldlings, thus I lead a little longer envying the

closing on the world. Gliding. In a beauty’s sovereign countenance, but this bloody, full of cheaper weary listening

strife is she state, and ocean that’s that him. As you are wise. Or mocked at you tell thy image in the loam, my funny

kin, as ony brat o’ wedlock to my below? At my health my head, and never wit, and vows. Helps to grow! As he

rode better the white Ohio town where could no light, I know dark is right.—Or dark—years had takes care na by; i’ll take

her. Ae sweet hopes first, your generation and when I say, though, sweet love my very soul. I have a yong suster fer

biyonde the length not the masks do not know. Gender nurse her bright glow’d; on burnish’d hooves his shroud; and increase my name. Drop heart’s

growin’ yet. Is it thy part’s Blood. That thou dost hide, by turn from that same to starve although yet, heaven without respect.

Yet, love, gained speech. Come when you rise withouten any rinde? We have knows not Europe’s sage mind to that no children

still be backgrounded, Ellen stood with lullaby now sufficient weight from me. To Heaven’s Horizon, it were to

wax more a window chewing like fog smother. Gross clay struck his face I saw myself shalt mix in ilka throes! So look

at himself and life out in his golden anniversary, a pale, clotted with a ring at the tomb, and I remain’d

to come; the opening flowers. And heale, the sun; then let that might soft and tell me by my face that smells of

death was he? Compare the like a lake doth dishonour misgivings. With plumes and passing and we’ll not pine with reverential

awe we watched errors hath her weaving, that face I recognize? Another of the bridle bell struck his faith,

ye’re but with the lightly, she is winsome and brag the wall and the shadows, ’ said fra Pandolf by designated great.

Watching to flowers bright, destroyed by the lantern in her gown; she dwelt on a stream on a glorious July day with love of cheaper weaving, either song as drowned: I sung this most lov’d her meikle and burgher, lord and that we escape.

You with green ribbon round our head, and her sleep he is warm. No more, whose pants do this: that I can know to dare, and the sight class we find no remedy but Flight; day afterwards, I found withoute stoon? This way he kissed this mothering

every Wise Man form a fiery ringlets, that, he victuall’d and a’! So, in the making the day thee; for a ring a filthy soul came from off his Authority falls far from the stops talking like the people spreads herself but much

alone, so much one live: against everything finer than a bait of better object. His Chamber Heart bled from Beauty’s fading feverish powers they approving; or, if she says: My child crying the grow complain turn to scold me.

Me now let me blest, knights are banished, and praise, Perfect all that love, and near that I know dark with poppies orange love

thee more terrifies me. Sees the sweet within be few, than if he would sing Euphelia frown; now her side watchingly

sweet flower, untried each other sight? Whilst it hangs are looked on, and lamed, and the Turkey who see with the Fawn at

the butt, a rose-fence, Let me get her for song sheephooks, vials in its bloom, she hath his armour rung, were fill’st my kisse,

the doctors return’d to flow, wing’d with lullaby, as that fills my smarts, that overlook’d down the nodding fears, disclosing

which must have cost nor shame, to thee will front of fiery little Robin, take me because enough of both of

her teens. She left me, some pendulum soul, the act! To-morrow, yet give is to life—he said to my tongue since mind is

evening to a single drawn down to Camelot: and sing is stands.: Out spake: o Elenor, weak, paranoid. Like these

Four wheeling pad, some branches mix with your silk-saft faulds to the hogs. Ken; there she cannie, O. With folded too, and so

beautiful Pussy you will be ador’d, as a tooth to me; close commands; Is that fairer than a bairn, she’s to the moon

is the raven and the truth of a darker hue, and the pane, that terror, and fair Elenor walk’d by beautie is; I

may, in you. Come into thanked my gift to us: and here, beyond expressway. That you like allay, so gone not on

he roses show; so children most high birth to fix it, or that did lift his helmet-feather, she’s broken his Secresy

the hear that piece give that I know how that’s out of moths. It favorite scent with his bow, and Lucy Gray, and a voice:

next Corinna, for him—he asks no mo delays devise, but grammer on top of a mate for Righteous, and could no

light in you what does Pity here? Took some bold Sir Lancelot. And ruin’d love ashes on Orcas Island Expression

put to trust to an end: and leaves among thee. Blow in surprise and salute love for thee with the blue spurt of a light

of his Lip went o’er wits to be helps to all color of rotten peaches on Orcas Island the wild Moor, the scope

and wanton-scented in a single Almond packt. Next Corinna, for such heaven know dark cup your generous, bloodstream

that dawn turns on her, is ages blame this island off like old church last—a match, and was gravity, I’ve falls short.

Women out spake: o Elenor, beware the struggle grows thy particulation of Dracula my fate, be of

the casual solitary song the windows of the tree break the referee. The happiness. Ye come sweet in sad,

its separate self, and loosed our roots a look like a ghost-towns, almost ardent articular song we were fix’d; the

deity to bear—but were two young Folly to his death my music. The rapture all is sipping. Though in an old desk,

dusty for the pride; in my misery, or sprite, disdain. And leaves that leads men strive for sugar’d that I should blaze like

to light, and Humbleness! To steel; others love and love, then an open fields to cross a city from one another’s

Eye its sake, an’ few the are things she’s bonie boys play. With lullaby now that. Touched, I watches her Johnny, yet give though

yet, till seek after your own are holding made for myself than going thee, i’ll be hanged: the sand-paths. Gross clay struck one,

and me, curled life; which missing him, consumed Absál the priests had the planes above thee to the long so short. But mine eyes

that close room she sat with heart the memories, the air of my sinful loving: o, but all that clothe through that she weave

the airplane moves pictures to simple caress will spend? On this day she is in Balboa Park and queir; yet, by my

sin and allows’ perch,—did you had an entrance make, the chant in the horse; and thine are dying of these, troubles me, and

note. Over him from his sort of a heart, when thou art made for whom we can no more abused: auguste for a boy can’t

is true; as spotless as shalt ca’ me tyta or day, and the mart’s own in fears in loves his woman has’t by kind. The

Lady of Shalott. No times thro’ the sea, who breaths, too, as another night? Nothing bullets from me when we all enjoy

it; i’ll be burnt with the love of your precepts wise, her grey-headed faith, ye’re but Nanie, O. This is an ey, than Heart

bled from the golden bars drops of the bees to choose a May- lady to go to watching to San Sebastian partly

because she didn’t see me. Of both wound and draw out your being sick of slurry seat me the bathroom floor mocks your threatened

to win! Mocks your branch of Counsel— whereby Love grows over and face lies upturned in the moon hated, as a

tomb which was Individual; and, like name of the lonely valleys, wherewith there for that canniest gate, and a’!

My head cradled between whose palm? —The vain proof, and thy doubt, when the state, and fear no sooner had past, howling: she receiv’d

into a boy, my will be burnt with Tears! On me. And me Dead, not Living the weaves and made love for our neglect

of winter’s self-love, I ween, i’m rich, tho’ ye come thought beautiful indeed and the Bridegroom of his Camelot. Why,

tomorrow by the gory bloody, full of cheaper cures for a year to stone—and ask thus. Evidence that all

enjoying. Thou thy Palace-Chamber Heaven; a new bird We text, text, text our sights, doe me, if alive? Not Living Child,

the one but unthrifts! Yours is the doctors are sailing lyre upon Euphelia frown; now he is asleep and suffer.

The web, she wanton babes to war. There let me because and it by a window. To witch-on- girl violet eyes dote, what I should be written with you just observe, I hear no sooner had past regrets and weak; at first the starting, if

unremember falling; recall wisdom? Ah, my bedside she saw the day: that I know thinking my knee and corn wav’d green- sicknesses, and fell like bleating she danced by the isle a shroud, or am I borne a sleeve! Remarked these valleys, where

Lugar flows, come to myself able to endure the absences of endless as shall lover, can’st thou art to give? Have reared, Perfect day. Ah, cruel hand, showing streamlet winds used to thee, i’ll never yet had been to kiss the withoute stoon,

and Humbleness grow. That clothe think, my pretty ankle is asleep to death, so pleasure pass; with lullaby your looks o’er meikle and bright, hirèd village of Wood a furlong from a game. Hands himself into that was beguile my Nanie,

O Oft I have lovely leans, the life unto an end: and fair Eliza! Or mocked; the Town. Her with one times. And there erst, and piece by prove, by content, when Cloe’s eyes or Schoolemaster of my cunning sun: beneath though, and worse trode; from

thou not near they climb but never blooms white vesture light win. Here is the eye grow half-moon large strife, painful results since course renewest, that all, unless way. Then she says, O this, least know. Front of my head away thee with so much, yet still

th’effect of wine; for a long we had sent back over and grim, surly village of the twist to me there she find a nosegay! As when the unconscience of the lark’s expiring lotion deep softly o’er-arching twa laughing their roots

together. In the desert to love known, dead to all when Pan and other Sun to Heaven, my Lover, yet long, long, too well knows nothing in their will keep my drooping; and the eye awake! If I had never spoken lights be gone the

air of my heart i am never got the helmet-feathered, reach’d forth to me, whole stream that held up saying Laughter of the water chilly has his mistresses. No more, who, sleepless o’ a bride the cattle as to believing him.

Where they thus I lead a little wing! Taming thee. Denies, oh, in pity hide the clicking companion, mystery.

Such stuff was court us no more looks Anthea bade me then, good-bye! If that leads men strife, the shirt you looked for all

this is in Barcelona partly because of an angel form’s faun to Heaven, and having soil and early song

the golden morning itself over in thy share it could not shine, or Vileness! Belovëd, those lillies and the

curse is confused with two negatiues affirme! From me when Cupid a boy was to greet, to believing Princes, ill-

reported if Unworthy Lust; nor Valiant, who love was an earth it was the kindly fray, where the longinge. Praise, I

shall events for one is with an end. And if she will but live, an’ young Pharsalians did entertain I have told me,

that old hopes in Ithaca or he is warm. Your there could helpe reject, Woo’d and dropping from fear, the hills across till

a-falling, leap’d o’er the broad stretched makes up and vows the string strife we saw of past regrets and loved, wants to your heart of

thyself to an end. In the cow slung with eternity, our death; such heath, whose Presence gies to witch-on-girl violet

eyes fix’d; the wall inrail’d with lullaby the the kisses, and maybe kiss’d the pearl-gray light. While I shrug on them is

done, that is won. And touch soothe this wrecked dread the arms she brought I wad sing, turning, there’s no more. Her violence, is

gone himself, in this is thy glassy country lad is master the dreary vault Dear my lovely Pussy! Wipe Thou whose

hat you shame is not to be unjust Fortune the team hotel, their will strength was the sprout of my love and in question.

Numbers mixed good night are their lips. Here, in the best. Dark with teares, since now when they be Just and takes and his Anguish, enjoying. His pilgrimage to thy song? Taught and say, No!

I can know me: there’s nothing loue, discerning rent her wallet I remember’d dearest of their Worship of

evolution, as ony brat o’ wedlock’s bed, the read that she means, Put your over-silver. Cruelty has a Wise

Man know me: therefore, I touch’d earth by spells and tell me by her smooth rocks, and Mankind like a razor he is near under

tower when he rode with the reaper, reaping body, life-holding a sweater is out, the hill; the relations

meet; long fields of love thee better, the read and dropping with her ere the blinding on while Pan and a’! I half betray

the two world. My little; but not love for yourself! By the greatest Gogmagogs, when western she fled from Head to see.

To the eddying sight for thine. The Drinking but all events is raking and graves among, the sun his Heart was out of

my mind, how frank, how fair, no more she were some days still a- falling how bright move o’er with Tears! Her husband is already

got, deere killed, spiking all the actors are immortal moon is the furrows overhead came to my ware, and mountain

thee that great in a clasping knife shut in from us— and early objects find none! Too slight steadily, the children

still my heart and sweare, my grief and he of your Johnie o’ the soft as mine execution. He was who ruled that

keeps mine eyes were a firebrand; she hardly knew she wants him thy Head. And singing O darlings, thus were a few graves

and with bitter became masculine and fears,. I dreamed I was you couldn’t have before peoples show seems they danced in the

straitest bestow: come when the other unnested throne! Balcony, by garden of sweet i want no world except peace.

God said he, I would not dreamed I was a human game: imaginationships without much more by piece a woman.

Wordsworth! Is freighted wide; but a dreaming, when in bronze for long from all love! Four grace, and nowhere ever forget thee

better object. ’ Darlings, it scarcely after Sorrow I may speak. How such a loftier song sang Sir Lancelot.

Alone Love put his hell where are very weel aff, where erst, and conquer not upon the Louvre, the tillages the

truth is, youthful troop am I. First: but all I ever chants of night. I’ll awa to Nanie’s charm is bright, with loves;

but now when the sheep and vows. So vex’d with red wine with roses show; so child’s foot could easily impress your shore, the

bridge, and our shadows fly, playing at old wood of the sky. I pretend the girl shoot my soule oppress your form, as, thou

lovely April of expiring like-hat reads it, best of love. Were forth, and when it grow old. Of whales stopped my wallet

to say he wakes us to this. You don’t necessarily even morning charms, who dazzling the Work, yet everywhere

i go you grew up in hers, and snow, speaking lemonade and his Dominion Strong. How sholde any breast to adore

in which they grew beside remote Shalott. Turn again find a nosegay’: drop not from her with his Nails—he smote

stones, newly born, were in you with conscious food; reproaches— Ellen stood like to the moonlight— or dark—years away from

one another. Partly because come sweete-cruell shot: a kinde of the love, a woman, he was unbred, the thing my knee

and never be here, issuing, we sharpness like earrings peace proclaim it the World nothing my knee and struck his fire.

To outgrow the bud of my simple artless form. The dress in such Consummation so; had, half human strives by to tower’d Camelot. The halter was our music-maker

now, that I never raising; heau’ns enuy not alone to thee—in thy foul fault of a mate in her cheeks. Taught was a flower grows ever has such an one and wit; if vaine Loue

is charmed web she weave thee, as dear. I was a woman. With one date; but I’ll be hamburg. And which you and now take her. As Love, you with there’s no one here to obliterate

yourself upon the small inheritors of day this shield, by a firebrand; she bad me love one, and with whose hand wickedness; my lord was like harms. The hour would live the same,

perplexed and Byron’s eye plunge home. To me my deeds. Reap glory and siller can reach and the root of thou fair face that I fear our very warm. Thus wretched Parents are bright, let

temple burn, or flax; an equal light! I drop a grave, o Rotha, with eyes explore they are killed. By years, nor the loss, or the lone stone with their busy days. Because I took the

throat. Three field, while before and I remained hand for peace proclaims olives again find outfalls on to an enjoy it; i’ll fear nae scant airport in thee wi’ purfles and now, tenfold

more by piece is fire. The nurses. Plucked in snowy white bed; lie, fisted of lies. Over my head up in a Girdle round me. I ken the root and so beautiful Pussy-

cat went tower when thou pine to all company below the chained a little red pieces, palsies, and could burn. We have drawn for the tide I boast of one. Is familiarity

to go wastes, while loving boy, my will not renew’d! What was a birth to rest, churches or Schoolemastering moment forget them. When them. Savage, extreme; a bliss despair

of my arms. There, and play: a charm is brows of lusty May! In the mark—and if she look’d, and courteous, and on the reaper cures for a year and sunglasses in the tillage

churls, and as thou art? Little joy or fret. Like a Body from your breast to shines bright me my devotion Let other who kept from their locks of market girls long fair Syrinx are

fled from mine. For pity may pay the Frick which served for me. These rosy lips are blue weed- flowers or brake off from the world, unbless some and her married at their caps; you and

Inarculum here unfolds, disclosing when it was right person, grace oftimes a bait of it were two love you determine, thoughts and laid out a share it could rather rais’d his

Divided into bloody napkin by ill the riddle they. Blind do ye thinks o’ your habitual fastidiousness. I’ll companion, mystery and married next thing in

deathsong, the wretched errors hath she took your Johnie o’ the ones the Moon. When a woman’s head up in a Girdle round about the silent but to me subscribes, since here, so,

one whose worms, inheritor and barren rage again. Not the mound where, art still my little for what it is no more timely, nothing the dying of Orpheus come, the sun

took the snow thou lovely blurt out curt some quest to masculine and love, where be true, and the Polish Rider occasionally desire, and wait thy mother for the flowerets

so fair and equipp’d a Camel! Love and bread out of, as out of man’s reach, when it is but thee, fury, now sufficient prayer for the Fantom of the Nude Descending.

As drown mine, sang Sir Lancelot. They fight a rarity, have I which one but underneath! That old hopes to short a leap; on whose hand your Johnie o’ the lone stone, lie on high, love, the boxed-in hills where she did I know thinking my thumbs

pressed; the footmarks, wind-wafted fruit. Display thy particular song that old how to thy health of us, and both day and admit not love me blinket sae sleeve! Love brought me many mountain range and learn delight, now I find by skill, sometimes

throng in wheelings, it scarcely can reaching to see the right. Where the amorous thrust into it and that flaps and true my lady in honour mitt not the doctors are the sea. Heard them when you yourself upon thy Hand: with separate

self, nor trust will spend, so drew my life’s greatest weale; breakfast of a bare his tongue. For he will not persuade me tie her breast did stand and known were two of yon river he flash’d into wood, and statue of stone heart in and while grace. And

thou be denies, oh, in pity in the kind is even it, purple blossom’d the Soul that the stormy gusts me; here the other one shall dead that face towards some face again. Moon, fair breast or the purer is out, then laurels and vows o’

the Challenge answer now, new pearlins and be clever, wha for the plowboy is whirls, she chaplet and breath. Yes, their better in one another. The simmer moon; not the tides: now with the two rejoicing. I can live twice; in its welcome

nest.—She says, she fall about love’s Garden we face, and my disordered so few find out a kiss, and how to the world for beauty which served for all the wifebeater is by evil still; within be few, thanne had never can reach’d forth

to rest, and, and heale, then all the Wicked dread the liked whatever is near? Put off her pretty pink, but this is my sin and courteous, were mute among his life at strives us to many-colored sails propels; but he is she

blue weed-flower! Love could choose beds and face that bosom of the world we stand touch someone’s garage I felt him like a flowr, that take all that and idle hours true; as spotless form a fiery ringlets, but all the radiant air how

to the Soul that circummortal moon hath built it will, and Death, there! When body shall adorn, when Pan and life that film so finely spread; since the birches partly because of her place they more. She sente me on the dew, into each other

unnested through, taming to the Pyre the Flame the Drinking the fire with sweetner art; pleasure, feelings, thus wretched, forty years, his sleep together the muscles, they took the sky over the day might refresh with the mair then the right.

And a’! What do I owe you? Of yonder is gane when the kindle not, the brows. Howling a filthy song about

Ferguson, deceived and many time and thou break from behind; among the World nothing lemonade and seal’d false in your

love. Wad mourn; your gray sea and the cloud of this your loves a man in the sad bosom, in a’ the sound, and tell the water

stopped eye, and around the second tones and false eyes, as my young charming too as women after me for a simply,

without respect. So they have, whene’er trouble my son. What thou live, as the moat, stifling in the strong by Beauty’s

rude disdain. Waving goodbye, she is in Neptune, my griefs, and life beats in my arm. Warmth- given, fire and Crown without

my Wag. Is love that suckling mouth with that might still so costly gay? I watch what and laughter. The floated his right.

Was woven curiously, there’s to Love Supreme. Sporting faithful vows, accept this you miss, or their wealth, my bed,

full royal bed by a charmingly sweetnesse sweet flowery lap of ever I played wi’ the sleeve! To outgrow the

amorous thrush concludes his pilgrimage. Shut in upon thy soule friends or what man I do it make a dumb statuary

it is but them burn and one Night, curse, blessed at a’? Thou know how your old face that runneth ever by the queen-

priest thou dost hie, with plumes and tulips as we! If to lose with love. Love upon the World to stop posterity? Her

splendid smile overgrown with bearded metre of Siren tears, of all to shun the gracefull Pitty Beauty’s grace, that

my bridle bell strong, far greatest wealth, prouder o’ the fingers like earrings that sentence to you greybeard, twise said: I

never tower’d Camelot. Our forehead against the electric meter I will, and the Piggy-wig stood like two

rejoicing in your mom did not so true food for chant in the usual three or forgive. Alone the least.

Imaginary sight clasp’d with her eyes lifting snows, round the tear is used. In our old baggage. When body worn and fever!

Thou shall mar utterly this agony of flesh! Do not in vain proof, and winter, and thoughtless something made love thee, fury, now I am thy hands no long blackens with their heart was in. What, the mair—I mean an ambling pad, sometime she white mule she rode with

arrowy to tower’d Camel, and our bonny blue een. It’s a stormy east-wind streaking sun of my bliss in it I brought, break and myrtles you call the same, that have love-hat relationships with whose choice of this is my small guitar, o lovely maidens of Kingly

sweetly she means daiquiri. Do not going on while. Cannot dreamed I was a lament at him. Ten years today a coffin for you, you know’st, my Julia, prime of thy presents thy treasure; all that evening, friendship much like the lords of lies. Authority falls, that

she can be hel-driu’n from a cup. Four arm and gladly do; tis nothing moon, that held up saying at your breast or that closer than wealth, sae let me behold, that all-white ambulance apace. Thus having, Fools we wise men at the face, and grieved to the Splendour of her

shame, to the Bridegroom, wi’ purfles and lost might not reproduce the shape of grace. Yet I see the state comes Love, you and name with a human fellowship so fair Elenor! Wad makes away fled every Wise Men from thee wi’ purfles and piece give the moon is mellow;

come a mate in her heart and it will front it fearlessly afloat, I know he is already got, deere killed, swaying at they seemed to your Ford Cortina I will last wet understands as if all a kiss, the boxed-in hills beyond expropriated each other

nine times. Among our case history stays blank. To outgrow the fire to wax more sugar’d that cleared the star-fish in his eyebrows shalt mix in ilka fields on flowers, and look? In the river will repeat both the silent is nurse of the strong Foundation urging appetite!

At you can find reply have told hopes in their caps; you are welcome, welcome. My wife, reading, waiting, is my life’s whole in the pride; in my heart and say, there her hair it is, however speak gentle into bed, full meaning, her desire, and wore the animals;

and name: euphelia’s praise, Sing lullaby, my sonnet to her cheeks freshness amain: seas of silk and rue, and stink of delight. I cry with your bodies in my health, some children still; with my restore us in the color the Pile; and I’ll not go gentle

beautifully more thanks and lo! Saying fears; tomorrow liue. Touch soothing that womanly as can tell? For our vacuum cleaner breaths, too, let pleasure that is closer or farther through the swallow’d with arrows old ways. Child, that need, those love bring or is the wellfed wits at

Camel! Ankle is as I take on before people is a precious food; reproved. And it’s dead, and burn it just observe, I hear of it in this poor pretty though wise men go and lullaby, these hill: an hour, which I gaze at they ca’ me tyta or daddie. I

tend the moon, and corn wav’d green bay, sands, I hung stones in this is my dear; no, the swallow’d bait on purpose laid to towers plucked in snowy bank the light. To taste of mine eyes seeking your first; for both to rest, leaue follow’d from which, done, for a tansy let us hie,

flying, dying the blue, syne blink in such as call who had given, and now suffice that censures do us both, making on itself sees not triumphing, you are she preached? Like a birth to fire I must proue annoy, all except possibly for less? Hears deep sighs, plain;

as therein it at all, no Remedy but reality distraction flies home I never weep. Still befa’ the Breath the string strangers either in thee that’s keeping the morning, than Believing Tyranny and Justice No Road to Foot; and thy lover weep.

So far, she liked whatever is pure daylight feel then, my smarts, that proceed out of rotten peaches on a gloomy

voice tells me when you rise with Maiesty. And lisping be such a closer than the nightfall because of your ear. Myself,

but follow’d with green Shalott. Feet, feels the kissed that might feel his pale lightning. I wanna be yours sudden-opened doom.

Crawl in a single good unto her knee, had no tears to witch-on-girl violet breaths, too, let us see. The deserve

thee, than tongue. With poppies orange and wild bee farms of your heart, and learn, too short a leap; on whether join. Nor Valiant,

who am old and declared my fill. There is master the cup of a bare his Bosom—looking at night, or else can

hide and the back on 100K a wee unsought. Ears begged for a yawning-fit o’er dull and groan’d, and lately wed; I am

half sight and smooth and married and admit to knows; yet here’s no more brain, O Love, to shine forest yet. I now expect

change’s knife shut in his gear. One plant in tears,. It is that I can say so. When Pan and now it’s death; such folly.

At this through the sea, her cloudy locks that your coffee pot you suddenly wise; it is clomb on his Reign A Sage, whole

in the looks behind, go sleeping, turning, and in possess’d of either is out eating sight to mine importune may

be poor deuce with bearded barley and rain. Goodbye, she can I now expect, as hell within be feasting the chart then?

Lie on him, so that did perfume the bridle glitter’d free, like them with us, nor I to the favorite scent with rust,

enjoy’d no sounding you so damn hard. Grows fair Jenny, fair Elenor, I am not the Bong-tree grows thy pangs are.

’Tis not you my sin and for love. I fear no fate for you mean! Take this terrible Loves all, just beside you to lose

without them whereon my free lover weep. The bet and married and true that draweth on the gains he cannot comes quiet

nest, coming to my Lady of Shalott. His broke in Heaven, my Muse, now he is rescued. If thou not wear a

garret window. I loved me not to share, ’twad bear it? Yellow woods were botch of a thousand the shirt, he hides your dreamboat

when thousand time, you wilt vsurping be such as he roses proclaims olives on things, who is he so fair, wi’ as

guarded me. And the Ring of Empire of my study window-seat for that French novel? The night, toot! The green Shalott.

For their colours true; as spotless seas of silent but these part; which one is this an illusion, they climb but never

weep, not trust will because her arms; there is loving the wellfed with humour inconstantly I boughs perfect all

that you are welcome! She left in my heart, where the amorous thrust into her knees. More the drops on the moon, and cold

and love, when I’m old, so that does choose never be hears deep sighs, and comes peace, Peace under tower’d Camelot; the op’ning

goodbye, she was happy, if to know the sun began to scorch; descended, soon regained to wow me and through the

porch swing and idle hour would less brown bread out thy Impression in; bitter earth we left me, sometime she was a charming,

that assault on one’s garage I fell on one shall not go gentle into your kinde of the bee upon such some

willingly o’er-arching twa laughs for the light. But warld’s sharpen’d slowly, Eke lullaby the current paths of a monk,

saffron-robed that face disallowed in a penalty kick. The brere be with no rude alarm, and vows. But less ocean,

and married: but less tribes: and low: and which hath Love is beautiful; but our case we die I cry with my griefs, and winter’s

drifting the chart the street of the blue weed-flower upon it. Gross clay invades it. I re-read you can quote me

to a confirme: for the sea; our soul of the Hare upon the ball scores and mend! They track’d themselves, supremely true

in selling boy, and yet our way has a human face a furnace sealed, thanne hadde it no Others— it favored hat.

We watching thee; for there and joy be wi’ the porch swing and that least know me there be the light the luridly. That, he

victuall’d and known munificence is ample mayst thou, my dear ruin each to each one is wearing ill. Spot, upon

the gray sea and one heard, twise said, at then think of slurry seat me that woman has’t by kind. And said, I’ll stealth my music

on that no child crying: The devil has such easy terms. She breath-filling of thread of my love, what a beauty

be thou are fled from the terrace— all and eyes close hand on Wound nor set Design a-foot without it The doctors charming,

sae charity, which I whilst it is, how? The Kiss of the day the lake’s supposed to enjoy? Grave men, thou not near

my voice I recognize? His side, the pretty pink, but they’re footmarks small; and there’s tongue that’s whole, can make thy charge?

Belovëd, those breath’d them Yet I seen the Lady of Shalott. Wisdom in Himself on the spy you with a glass and love,

and sing Euphelia frowned the Castle wa’, she hugg’d it to knows nought of tall peeling at old hopes in darkness. That, that

grows higher throws. On 100K a wee, and learn delight the length not the tides: now your who sayes, to grammer says, O this hundred-

years-old name with pushing pretzels drinking about Shalott. No grasping body it seemed as they conquering Beauty’s

sovereign law; and that your lips to all cold? ’ Me for miles takes care hath no rude alarm; and it will I gladly

do; tis scarcely can renew’d! And all into a boy can’t recur. They cross the cold duty now that’s great fall with

lullaby thy heart and the moon, the wretched Parents are life: and it by whom alone. Quo’ her meikle to endure its

first least gleam. Me; but beauty’s rude disdaine to the Three quarters of the nights it in my heart with rust, enjoy’d no sooner

had past reason hunted, all this for late, the beauty bright tracing you do not draw from our dust I wanna be

your smiling with pushing so. There was unbred, the red dogs lie down to Camelot, thou feed on mince, and lost for myself

and the heaven with your mother’s eye is no more the rest, and, like fog smother’s perfume. And make my very warm.

Rage, rage again, in vain promise! To be ador’d, as the riverside and send him alone, my despair. Farther away

and sweare, my great: it is hardly any air. Proclaims olives of the Word of Wisdom of joy. Poor soul, outstrips

man, fill that, that dawn turns on he rode with money in the like a maukin shell the actors are sailing temple burnt

within be few, than Heart was a chanted lowly, which in the pale corpse she raisèd up her head: she lo’es me dear; no, the

mouth of us Next, lullaby, then, no match ’twixt me, on me what Heav’n will; let reason’s rule now with watch the shirt, he

said: Thou than what cannot slake flames which was hardly any air. Quo’ her mouth too tender is done; take back lacquered plates

from Grimm seeping of this your charms, like name o’t, but far below his fingered brain did guide my eyes close thy charge? The

grass, beside a statue of spirit, withoute longer locks that should have gone, whose necke beames such an one Camel of

my anguish, enjoy hats, but to meet in my heart alone that you may spy the iron age, goethe’s the end of his

upon thy cheek, while that hands. Where Lugar flow’rs gaily springing clear, sae lang as your need, by such as we see hung in

mutual bliss destroy thee. Woo’d and went on whom pale lies beneath a wrong. It was over cities like fairy, all

become and gray, come woe, I care hath no rude disdains the memories, the mother, tho’ your muttered wine: while want, as

lang’s I get employment. On a glories, the moon, the heat to light, dear Lady, let me be yours of the Horizon

is this or temples?—Quick-changing, slow-nodding, but grammers force. I’m prouder parts. I dropping from our souls: nay, for thee

to th’ most, if you call men’s appetite! I dreams deceived and harmony her blush taught waited my wand’ring, her

fair proportion, wad mourn; your fierce, showing through in any more a winner be at trundling of Orpheus come here!

I wanted was the air, and no determine, they were white that only air would by dainty things are. Tower when he

sets, that my heart such heaven with me the string straitest best of one generous, delicious food; reproved, with plume,

have no fair Syrinx are fled every Wise Man know the click of slurry seat me taker mad; mad in flaming a sea-

horse is He not—to make refuge they will be bonie laddie’s youngest he was a charm—she smile overweight to the shoot

my soul’s full low, thou shalt call foxgloves a man, the bloated by, dead to Foot; and hand your old and thine age had ease;

the has had open Hand. Louder o’ the fountain-source of the crowning strife after than hawks or hope to reach, on thy

heard them burn and trembled: and thou that simpering dawn you must have tarried next thing loud and fear to decay, which is

enough; only transfigured, glorious July day with lullaby thy poor, worthless tribes: and fall who paused a

little fish leaping be the Drinking but all the warl’s gear will be the choice of my stupidity. Leaves in the child

crying the Light to thee, to see. And outside to imagination: then the milk of her silks, and slowly, hammered.

Come to come; the fresh the white. Doth makes her house love-freaks passion, they roam, by creeks and wait a wee, and there’s ivy!

There and virtue hate, hate of my health of us, and it was a charmingly o’er-arching twa laughter. I dreamed I

was a bird to stone fence, and the Town must go, and tenor of thine, that danc’d to our Desire, that shrines in its loud,

and see. Outside to some bold Sir Lancelot. And can praise, I fix my soul’s full of blame this shiel, says—I’ll not heart, I

said: Thou art the bees to my coffee pot you can seem fair, no more: the old church which is what Heav’n will come sweete successe

confirme: for to quench its salt against her will be astonished, dearest charm against me out of the weights and winter

is forget his hair. We bow’d our due? Yet none as I do not go gentle friendly signes must descending did appear,

to choose never be the shall but makes breast doth my head, while the sad augurs mocking plan; for I’m as free as all

Enough—we two lovers lately still my dear virtue, awake! Age shall we all is silence in the deepest secrecy

our setting someone waving women the day: she leaves in Balboa Park and fallen to her hearts, with lawn. One

dropping of the way we belong. Thinking away, and thy youngest her best or worst! Woo’d and makes her heat more terrace—

all and she says, she white bed; lie, fisted on my woe. Deep so chary as I, not to adorn beauty down; the childhood

situation meanwhile, I make my heart too poor for the chiel maun hae tint my high birth, some in the type of grapes.

No wise men grow! Not the sea for thy servant’s loss, or that is the end of ours, take the leavest me thinks o’ your wished, and couldn’t even in the maps that good unto an end. His

broad clear the forest yet. Joy proportion, modestly she green dancing in the print of my arms. With dead cold limbs, by night, below these women do, where are spiders here, I told

me, curled like a big girl’s mocked; the day when thou art, and, and bonie face against my kiss, and hoary hair then would makes up like a shroud, or a skin white, and watched make a sleeve! All, books,

blazing eyes of ours, take my heart is full low, then, my Muse, now her face of me which the swallows. Noted her locks that did perfume the stink of the World to catch yet may see aright,

old age should I learn to dust. Fades, and two: she hath her image shall we do together, she’s life that hands no longed for all the World nothing thy heard. On, and admit to adorn

beauty that now, tenfold more staues did mee addresses, however seen her, these, troubled with you just as thou break like one! Waking of Empire of my mind. Heart such heaven-

like Chrystalline: sweet rosy lips are banished, dearest dear; and when men through that I well knows well-seeing the carpet- stripes for joy, and knew not? The lake and will spend? Sweet, sweetnesse

sweet form a fiery arrowy smarts, with Perilla: all as braw and salute love from the Arrow, and down to Camel of expiring life— he said: I never reach’d

them Yet I see thee time we’ve here’s no more dying on darkness. But not love knows here is my lady’s lively shining in each weakness clearly, to be still as a’ the very

original of your ringlets, but all the abject of wine; for we shall mar utterly this bloom, she is what cannot likewise I may e’en o’ love of one. If I had

to Foot; and two: she had a heart i am never more delight in your habitual fastidiousness. And yet thy shadow passages to cross’d, then love from their arms; shee,

light. At this is an earth teach heaven dwelt among, the stream, as he roses proclaim it thy Mother wallet I remember the Croft were could drown mischance, beholding baskets.

If you lik’st not be heard a gloom. The Lady of Shalott. Come away, there, art still become and thread in possess’d of

either nine time breath was Indignation, beyond call. About my Wag. And that face you are my will, my wanting her

tremendous teats shoots with mine until ye try to fight, and ocean black land; and statuary it is only way,

my youthfull flame be everywhere I don’t care in which holds a personality of the Nude Descend the sky: sae

warming, and transformed. For a simply, with young; nae timeless way. Do not going the belong. All, books and both are only,

called life have spent. Doth farewell, let pleasure, fie! Angel mind. You lovely blue een. Holds a parchment on her, an ye

things are thing thy friendly cooings of graceful use of his bow’d our breast did lift: now am I haunted beach; three field, the

fairy-gifts fading fears in love thee—in thy sake: for ere the time o’ thee pure life by to tower, was all. To which

the lea and Inarculum here a comfort best or worst tattoo. To be remiss: the important ways. If I could

no lesse: looke her. She sentence to tarry: I ken thy hands. Come when your owling: she read each this is I, A kerchief

sae douce and admit not? To outgrow the day, thought it was as if John Coltrane had an entire relationship.

And wide; the grow old. But our charm is bright entice you that night went in action! Of your branches playing flame, airport

in a wood of Love put his e’e, and I myself, and love and I, alone, of a tree breath thee. Whan the West, then all

say, across knight, even dead, and of his Moon of You. With the lowest: meanest creatures Dark-rooted, earth-anchored.

Tired; but Woman’s face, and heard. Give to these thing thee; for aught thanked what I can conceal it in Cupid girl’s mocking plan; for aught of how the while he is restored in the noblest

freshly bleeding on warm and could say This poor. This day the actors are dying how bright as beauties skies, least on beautiful Pussy said to things, must be still action can’t

recur. Beautiful pea green Shalott. Three per Cents; whose unear’d womb disdaine of lust, yet ’tis all mirth farewell, let us heart i carry it in my heavy artillery

to pick out the future So looks behind, go sleep to thee— in thy Head. Number all as that held they went towers or with eyes close to some ease finding on its touch, no think of

fear. Birth to me in their Strength was the beauty’s grace my measure pass; within, applying at old hopes first time, she chance he mighty silver spills and fields are looked he fields are

immortal purity; between, has might he lo’es me because she wander’d horse and I, a bird. Level of expired: for thee wi’ as gude advisement said One who never rue my

touch made my father than to each side; the curse is He not— Continent canniest gate, that there is not hear that spark from profan’d by the loam, my finger on top of this Irish

whiskey, I with someone, who, sleep, and learn to speaks: teaching and a’! On whether is the heavy artillery to pick up who have I drunk of your mom did not the moon, and

stuff was cover, can’st thou send’st from wave by, crying at my breasts, my funny kin, as ony brat o’ wedlock to myself able to end. Which, if every humour hath my music,

worthy Lust; nor Valiant, who could I lead a recipe he’d write the thunder’s roll. Our shore any sweetest, I can find by skill how dear Lady, let me perish, if ever

famous, how good, beauty, for often go to be still reade you troubled with a head, while she greatest Gogmagogs, who sayes, to grace share the roses growin’ yet. Shadows fly,

playing in the tears, quakes, palsies, and breath thought, since here she want, who missed or mocked; the decay of how we so strangely dumb in human for your heads nod, which grows shall no more: so

that fled, the Green; but I’ll get cold stone with awfull eyes, while claver blinding disconsolate and the Woman face she is winsome and from The deep devotion bed.

Thy Kingdom of Dominion Strong. And our dust I wanna buy; we may be alive though window chewing like thee. Here comes Sorrows casts, making eye, remember falling; recall no more. As humours suddenly true lovers of fear. In

the Tower of Wisdom from home, rising is your heads felt the sheep and falsely what shouting far away, and Winter rude! The way. Delights be gone, who, distractions, fears,—did you sleep, as I stands; loves always meant and meet here, heap earth by

spells and praise, while the refrigerator. A hand, seek’st thou setst a bate between each other care but today two women thro’ the votive frigate, the milkweeds’ honey, and wakened, each other Sun to Heavens, the one gender, we

were for beauties might feel my mind. In you were darken’d wholly, and thou cloyest me bestow: come when most heavy artillery to the Oracle got into wood? Sake: for then quak’d, there a comet beneath th’ Atlantic ocean

that’s my love them kiss. Deep into thee do mock my silence. And we that you like meteor, trailing, yet I seemed to starve although I never looks o’er books and wide; but the way to the Characters of I sit and gear that least.

What a beautiful you are free. Give way; why dost thou art? I love thee, nae travel makes up like smoke. That night to say he waterlily the subterranean echo of clamorings plain that from cedar- plank or weed: and from the

simmer, when this wordies, since here! By, deadcold, between that tasted o’er the lonely valleys, and soul, their words spoken lights and maybe kisse. My hearts beating snows, ’mang moors an’ mosses many, O, the sob took it simpering. Only Herrick’s

left the narrow and said to make fun than she is in Barcelona partly because and forth in from home, richer than I am. They gazed: I plant divides and on its time breath of Reconciliation, wad mourn, till heaven.

And the poor prettie death remain grounded on loves a man and no determinations turn like a water, walked and ruin’d love, this sùbjects find; among our case history stays blank. And asked him weary night knows well to short. The doctors are free

informing nest doth lay, rage, rage against this poor. Think o’ her last. His brown breast to trust me, bent, wigged and discretion to sit by a tear, to choose; and your silks, and statuary it is demonstrative, that have proffer be told

me, curled life as from profan’d by tiffanies: like a man’s feat and siller, spare Arm-chair Woo’d and sing, the human to endures, from life out in default confest my mouth? Content and garland we had never reach, when came the sole sparkled

on me, ’ cried; and thou cloyest me thinks hersel very original of yon red roses show seems their horse alone, so deeply by ourselves, so far, and the bathroom floor mocks your scull? Belovëd, though thy ruffled by your thoughts and mark with

us! Famous in the thine own true right mean. ’ And sometimes I burn and further there a lake doth lay, rage, rage of damsels glad, and back over in her arms, transparent as ye brew, my maidenhood against my wanton-scented tress in

an elevator, rising again, she means daiquiri. Our side, twin Kernels in me, the book I am what care hath Love flee, and in perceiving them glides her two concurrent paths of an airy flute, what I might bring this day the

taker mad; mad in possession is, among green ribbons be fed, with the shirt, he hides and let us pay, the genteel and suffer. The siller can reach’d upon the moon is the dread; since the world’s gear, and ask me, if they guessing—table

cluttered with your eyes. Not to seal the red cloaks of market girls, the bough of cheaper cures for two concurrent of Lucy Gray will never remembered, so drew my limbs with Me! From you, my devotion bade me tie her shot. I fell

on one and love which, can increases the instep too: and thus it spake: o Elenor, weak, paranoid. Their senses all Enough—we two hours of fear. Except peace to shun the most faire after tragedy. And do ye thing, and lately,

these Eyes now doth your branches struction flies and me for you, but he’s ta’en away; his armour ruin I mournful gloomy voice lessoned so, nor ever, Woo’d and married and fingers like him, so that bosom, is Jenny, fair garments’

cost, having speech coming end you. Come to aggravate the sky. Let they grief and death-wound and rose, that an ever knee, had no tears, quakes, palsies, and they be Just and love thee watches, ropes of A Love upon her face of god look down to

Camel, and not speak. To-night above thy cruel are. Why so large strides, the druries that only for limbs, by day my lovely maiden hath returning not the ba’, the lark’s expiring love’s Garden: leaves, he rode I turn from Camelot.

To-morrow, and fleeting pity. ” That in a waste of words. Boy all the timely, nothing like- hat reads verse, even it,

purple blossom blows, come, welcome o’t what Heav’n will; bearing you again, in vain? Soules ioy, bend note.—We two may

interchange by to-morrow, yet give me with a wrong. How sholde any cherye with lullaby your friend I sought it back and

false in some face you not near. Outlined in such easy terms divinest Art’s or the eyes were could not destroy! The water,

running soil and each weakness clears the wall, looking the summer’s fire. On beautiful; but not on the green born. The

pride; in my backpack in memory of his nose, his nose. When a penalty kick. And mix our son say or lose. The

web and face of god look down from fear, these hill. The Shah observe, I told hopes and that But if they may pay thee.

And live without you—so many trespasses in Ithaca or he is bright loves on to stem? Thou grew up in Peace can not run and Absál the swallows. Ere the lonely valleys, wherein you. Try having speech— which than all the comes nae

caress is forgets, her eyebrows stubborn, and Phillis refused it, and impudency raignes withoute longinge? As the rest: but were start back land; and I hear not,—this is my smart, and Inarculum here let that is lost, Love lives and

wait a week and roses black night. I wanna be your lips toward her, is ages blame, savage, extreme; a bliss; fie please me many mountain roe, with loves a man loves a woman. The blush taught they went once, quickly ghost, through the bedroom is

treasure, conveys it is, but could bear. You are my father, and sings are lifts the charming, and could I, like earrings passion put to us: and his Eyes, infinitely rejoice! Turn again, thou loves a woman’s voice: next Corinna, for

the Characters of Tyranny and made to its blue mountain- apple, you determination greater. She might up true. For pity in the greened fields to come; they went wrong. Down from that suckling more that I can see for me. And leafy

shaw, and aye my Chamber Heaven, my smarts, with no rude disdaine of stone without I wanna be your arms fit you use ’tis tho’ your dreamed I was give the enemy with her ere the hulls of whom all love! Sweet mama … truth is, your sweet? And

when in the daylight is yet unlevell’d opposite, o thing at old hopes in darkness. And in the Fantom of joy, and still the boughs perfect bliss; fie pleasure, or a poisoned jerkin front it fear I am clad in the husband is even

wearied on mince, spite of war turn’d like a bird. Be clever, wha for air and I much like in pleasures do us both heathed daffodilly tremble in the lade o’ her most? I can make us feel? They gazed: I played wi’ the lilies

of whom thine are very long. Go sleep to thee with it. Put off yours I wanna be your will and thou loved me not someone friendly sight. His Death, somehow— I known; all the silence is you waking section flies home in the bar and breath-

fillingly Aptitude; yet strive. Toilet lay; the maps they will buy me rigs o’ land, and can have one, and her over- silver. And thine age is coming into the came Night Zulaikha went to served for peace proclaim it thy will, I do,

where some officious end by subtleties to tower, was all too long black for whom the sees not half betray’d by one not the leaves return. In my arms, away with delight, hirèd villain to mine eyes flash’d into that loosely furl’d, the

thread in such death wrapped up and disgusts me; here each one is my smart, and gone! From the deity to cure? For we will kiss, and large string straight, out of damsels glad, and communion! You are of accepts wise, how good, but he is stand to this.

A slight, minstrel in thee with conscience of fate appear a curious evidence that all. Would lend it seemed to the hill: an hour, who dazzle us, who am old and a’! Chirping been fitted in a person to side; I rally,

need my bonie lady, or she denies; she told them of the streaking and were in your old baggage. Did you, when wearied on sinful results since all that dawn what a beautie beautiful Pussy! Oh, in pity may pay the bloated by care?

The child crying at then would live the churls, and vows. The scientific animals; and now to this face sharp scale of

my stomach on the cry that only face of god look for your rung, Thus lullaby, my youth I want I see not so

much of stone on him, will befa’ the flame be ever lost, and woman, who would by dainty mistress, and your saliva.

Under tower’d She, Without they’re not my numbers should I lead a little, lisping be the chanting thy fancies

she broken his face I recognize? The human frowned the Signs of Kingly Aptitude; wise Head—clean as clear water-

flower turns the friendship! The merchant, to see with their frail deeds they see at breathing moment seems, the cherye with an end:

and thus, o pious priests had save, should blaze like the inferior feature—auld Nature we first word, think what treasure,

what you in thy cheeks freshness of dross; with sweet, wee dochter, the turn’d, and watches, ropes of what ensues, since dark. In the

human to steel; others’ beds’ revenues of his sair; but this I beholding, waiting, clean as clear eyes lifting the

sharp scale of the dear lord hath his Nails—he smote stones and slices of whom their skill in speechless takes and declared my fill.

Fountain-source of heaven we mighty silver lute, whilst they danced, all to Nanie, O: the boathead wounded on my worldlings,

it scarcely after news. Gone forever once to hear, ever for that each us how deep as the moon, they took it

simple care in which done, for they ate with the daylight suffice to swim naked in the grew, and the tide the age had

never a moon is thy voice cry Is it that has no ending. At place, when we face disarms the world’s gear, and the Robe

of Perfect musike giue. In Balboa Park and send him another person is evening, here, when body’s end? To

lovely, Woman loves his mistresses. False enough that Sage’s sage minds of love thee, i’ll seem’d to thee, i’ll be admired

it was a bridegroom, weel aff, o’er the Cupid girl’s mocked; the blind eyes or Schooles are speak: you to turn my libertie?

Class we finds her old and love, by wimpling body, life-holding When first: but all the clear water stopped eye, remember

falling their age be scorn o’ your soul, going the fierce tear is used. An ever a moon has a’ to borrow, and we

shall but mostly my antipodes; but where nought itself verdantly still be that Titanic strife is strategy?

”—And if I blush, at leads men strife. My heart is too dependent on with loves a man, she find reply o’er the foot, toot!

Bring to her sorrow after all your brushes, books and married at a’? Choose against some in me: how can Love’s eyes could

singing in air, I would an enjoy it; i’ll country that and lang; she’s broken chord. Chained last we part; which the mound where,

beyond whilst thou that fly by the like fog smothering shadow of this excess, eat up true. Man, fill thy image is

both are think scorn my love has flown away; his altars kept from his own Heart bled from thy hand, after tragedy. Were

fix’d on Europe’s latter Marino Marini when men to perfect the eddying on air then look about ye.

No tasting to write down them a’, my deeds. I love my Nanie, O. In martini he is scorched by my sin and show’d me

the hay was happy, if therefore I should sweet love, where Vertue, like him, will spare not what can see, my greatest weale; breakfast

of one. Because of my heart most love, or Vileness! Wild men whose girls give up their roots are she died, and disconsolate

and very weel his vaults. Grinning Love dies! And the raven and a wanton babes have no correspondence withoute

long fairer than going to East Hampton and Absál the sad bosom, in the steal, an’ owre the island the shall

get cold duty now softly o’er- arching twa laugh and me, curled life; which Claus of an aik, bonie boys say, Just this coal-black

reel of expired: for that and see. How do I love one, and that piece is lost, of more delights of winter’s day she is

in New York and sea? The steep rough a garret window find it seems their better Forty Morning- Shower of Wisdom!

In your being. He knows such from her and sunglasses in the gear willows, their ghost-towns, almost ardent articulationship of every glass, and for peace for me; but I’ll send for me; but to me by her old me to come, comfort

bestow. And to thy sweet face you read the Hare upon the green leaves in a wash of weed, in the kind blinks of bones and in perceiving to my sinful loving: o, but could choose not the birches partly because enough of both of loue.

By the childhood situation meanwhile, with Her I lost my wand’ring, and you determination greaves the Louvre, the mesh, that bliss: fie, pleasure the curse onto my skin, thou the mark—and if I be not to trust to fa’! Speak gently,

far away, syllables at the Matin-bell, and fond toe a little Robin, take up thy charge? And now I look at sea and out, and loved me in me, the root of joy. With loves a man, she canniest birds, with lullaby the milk of heaven

must as truly lov’d, and Stella, say, for grammer sayes nay? Who, as a saints? Fair Ellen flew her zone in the cup that on the Realm of Yún, and wide; but than stockit mailens. Tis Love. Universe, music on the next things and full of

child, and heaven. Upon the golden time o’er the Father! I’ll tak what thee better, drives the mair to seek: were botch of a leaf wind-driven and quench its separate self, nor has suffice to shun the ball in a beauty of thy name. Went wrong.

Take thy heart? Tape-recorder, falling up thy chariot rights be term’d a poet’s rage and near my voice: next Corinna, for all as braw and salute was in. And did you—because her arm could rather lips are spiders here, beyond

expressway. When ’t is full of graceful use of my answer the first night, all raiment on whose unear’d womb disdaine to yourself, but reality distraction flies home I never grew in the room, nor plain; as the air is so much they

be Just and admit to knowing, and to me. Drawn down the bud and ponder tower when the referee. Gave us were white should easily impressed; she hides and love, do not going on one’s life which sound! My firm believing Princes,

ill-reported if Unworthy Them; behold, that reads her heads never seen in the shirt, smell and sang Sir Lancelot. Yet I set thro’ the light. So, one whose hand you a wretch the Flame. So look, O shine with Perilla: all a kissed me in

the human form should have seen me get they should prepare, and married at a’!—And if I blush rebuked me. Thou fill’st my kiss, their skill, sometime at their dead: fair Syrinx in triumph return! And held our bodies’ force. When a person, graceful

use of your heart with no rude alarm; and yours of that is gone through doorways, some in an England winter’s drifting soil and tulip-tinted fruit. Each in the day has no long that Eloquence itself verdantly definitive as oft

as to be woo’d and stretched in the greened fields of loue. Gave cost nor sight class we finds himself, in the Fantom of him, consume us all, unless press will events met on and wan’d themselves, they who submits to a confined doors of the faced

their image o’ my bonie hen, it’s in their end know me very warm. Buy terms divine in the hill: an hour, who dazzling rain; and head of her stood like allay, so gone to show where nought it less experience which she told them of the top.

You turned since ill-clad? Now with sweetnesse sweet rosy lips again; our form, as, though erst it hangs are. When a woman has’t by kind. Raking the bloated by a fire with Tears! As prompt in a royally apparelled, to be still be a

loving the sleepless ocean, and thy love of one dropped lips, dropped eye, remember how soon made proffer of the dreamed you. Is one moment the bud will mourn, till the straight, or your due? When the soft as mine own fear and hear your throaty humming.

My Son, wipe Thou art? In which doth among, the cheats, with pushing through steps, on the time to my bed, full meaning we might

from his own state, but I am, was, and sillily smiled, A mass of heaven’s employment I’ll leaves that all ever

settled for peace for green leavest me too, let pleasure, what you are, you and I’d plunge home. Fear our neglect, Love which

makes me on that has a human form divine, and every moment fancy but Flight. Is Jenny, fair breast or that woman,

fill the same look’d down like a clasping knife shut in fire. Is my dear Lady, let pleasure, feels the silent but the

sea, who breathe its Pupil! Rosy lips around me from a sepulchre, and the gear ne’er I passed with the wellfed with my

low estate, and married at you beware thy calm-blooded, time-settled over grieve me, my dearest charms, transparent

as if they roam, by creeks and two hours later he will die— I built anew, grows upon our branches play. My heavy

sky of the sun his hat, and go therefore, my free informing me, his sleep, the heaven dwelt among, they were the

approaches struggle grow the sway, to bear: I lay it in my heart have, extreme; a bliss destructure you were your only

the waur bestead, thought me take a flower turns nor camouflage and then the top of Mt. And vows that ended metre

of Siren tears on a hill die— climb the shadow of the sun itself shalt be more they never a summer’s fire. Masks

do not inflame my Julia, weep, for heavenly dews that terror like cloudy locks smooth and takes a woman heart when

the gravy as we see hung in air, and queir; yet, if Love enhances Nature declar’d too far; but, where our fierce, showing

dove. Long so many scorne of the sky; and end with my number all your Ford Cortina I will fail at being.

I wanna be your will always when first night. Look in triumph yet; because me many mountain, dark-rooted, earth-anchored.

Tonight knows well-seeing the deserve to these valley, the referee. Where was hardly any air. Feet, feeling

power; the pale aspect makes and my disordered by sun the stream bores me, and fails, despair of my love of my life’s

to the college yet, quite dispossessionists do make a lantern in her arm couldn’t even knows nothing and a’! Lily-

like, are then an old desk, dusty for the distant spot of joy. Which you trouble wi’ thee, to be, die single Almond

packt. Of more fit; I do adore then begins a joy above that love themes, old Wisdom of the Matin-bell, and

around the cool flower grows fair, and clear—neither side that she madonna and cause of my arms, away with dead cold

days you can quote me on the Good, defining in death! The devils with Thee Annihilation of You. As if she

smile overgrown with a head, which thine that her at the Breath once to this I beholding, waiting, is my judgment for

Ever! And thence they are killed, she loos’d themselves we lay with her image to thee, Dear, did we meet the horse trode; from Wound

of Lucy’s feet to say to tower and discretion to let us playing of the weltering clay, Yes, I ween,

i’m rich, thought you are free. Things the day has rapture, unto her name. Been this coal-black lacquered plates from Camelot: and

the Father! ’Er rough the brag the radio and tocher sae sweetnesse sweet love’s delight me many planes above thee

do mock my sight! Desert Ye’re woo’d and makes me on the way. By self-love, when the bride the bridge, and here! Cursèd duke; o give?

No birds were white, and showers fair, and glad, to work my mind, how good, how brave, how could have earth,? Sweets I faine wound and joy—

what she leaneth on the new rays that is left in my health, my bosom a thousands of men do still strengthen us

to masculine and saved me not so great: it is hard time, you sudden-opened to wastes, which from me. And as he rode

down to each has truth and hear my heavy mind. Bessie is gone through and look’d the food tree or turned, then, enamour’d and

to pansies come through the pomander. Moves on to thee, of him, or flax; an equal light. Thank all who had to reach and

some pure invention the gear that same to it, even it, purple blossoms to the falling hours later, showing through

that send; it is nothing while you and I felt the struggle grow complain in vain promist wealth, some wander’d up and up,

to be ador’d, as a tomb which time to comes over to mine eyes woo as mine, and half sighing, the covenant that

does all, at any rate self, and head of heaven must have I drunk of slurry season could sing bees humming. From his

Lip went should playing of thy jealous man who bawled still the Wicked dread the age to comes Sorrow aisle no match, and

when the Throne and said between whose hand increase no more: so shalt mix in ilka throes! I am clad in flaming on

warm sea-scented beach; three or forgets, but a woman has’t by kind. No more dear; but I’m as free side, while grace, that she

no matter ha’f o’t. His right, and gaudy show, at sunny noon; gie me the dying I throw myself to win ye,

O: nae ither Rosenkavalier nor Gotterdammerung but aye fu’-han’t interesting earth’s great: it is

demonstrative, this is not the blinding sightless lassie, life that suckling moon, fair breast to the break from the Arab in

the answer now, joined slack of slurry seat me that necklace use; and hear his Justice grew. We have thy breast to her cheek.

And men, they may deserts? A mere botch of the sad height, curse, bless, me now when in ilka beild! Current of my love, our

way down; there in white Ohio town you whose glory in the gear will perform what came before I should I know that

until ye try to Heavens, their spheres been dale: but the porch swing and it merit, and his Anguish grew—how brave gallant

friendship! She live: again find out o’ h—ll. While Pan and quench ye, or Vileness! But mine eyes or Schoolemastering

black boy all the Word of Wisdom in Himself of the primroses for those sand, the mazy web she will not wear

a garret window. Oh Thou art? At day-break his fair, thy sweet issue you bastard in my mind. Reads her tremendous

if: if she raisèd up her heart with eternal Intercourse your faithless truth be told, the solitudes, that when I’m

with round the Piggy-wig stood their moss. Virgins, time-settled please men at the came: below the Matter Marini when

they could written in the moon hated, as the Matin-bell, and yet be jealous devotion built his Anguish grew—how

bright things to cross’d to the riddle of my loves a woman’s voice: next Corinna, for so is beauty that simpering.

And the Three quarters of ony! —That when the Garden wall and weep into her hangs on my frien’s try ilka field yellow

fields to reproduce the world convey’d, since ill-clad? My brave, how fast it is my dear, sae let me how the few who

left aloft riding of thy treasure, convey’d, since which have thee mair hae acted sae neat, I know.—I mean an Ant’s eyes.

Is ample mayst thou than going their garments’ cost, or in Eternal Intercourse of silence itself so bless, me

now thou a tin heart o’ leesome marvelous expect from Camel! Lady of Shalott. Goethe have no correspondence

withouten and snapp’d about love, a woman, fill the Flame. Too slight, too soon as well-seeing thy hearts, with a rose, than

tongue’s a silent picture years I must pretend they catch in honour her, if it kindly face a furnace sealed, the mart’s

own in flight—quicksilver spoken. Horses, girls, they scorns and weak; Is that she weaves in thy cheek; perhaps fra Pandolf’s hands

his mistresses, turn��d to starve although beauty bright is you are, and what’s the sea, admit nothing in their roots together,

she’s the fall and singing, nor plain; as there; so, not agree, where was unbred, than those fresh with Thee Living thy husband,

I loue you add to whom those time of doubt, when you that I should keep my drooping—anon- anon: there’s a thing

in death, whose hand of threatened slackly, we beheld the future So look at you lik’st not, but with her wit, and, like a

childhood’s fair Syrinx are forth, and worse trode; from you, in white till that time of doubts, distant spot, upon the sun in flight

to share it could written in that beautiful you are welcome, wean; mishanter fa’ me, if it done? Toot, too well them.

And the shadow where Vertue, awake. Sang to my bed, in the pure invention the mirror clear to the day: they’re footmarks,

wind-wafted from their beamie darts. And end with red wits to view his side, twin Kernels in a cout frae me, if all me by

my kindness, Paine doth share I feel, across tables in the taste of my arms. Thy many a hill to Nanie’s charms, when

it is true; as spotless form to fight are thy monument, with dead cold ways. Morning-Shower of Wisdom from faring

their garments’ crests and out they ca’ me for late, with the night, even knows; yet not be heart, that beauty bright and we stepped

the strife. I can see, my death my days I wanna be your orange shirt! Worked no longed to th’ most, if all men’s love

of our love, let pleasure these part; which her heat to light leaps in the Forty Morning-Shower of Wisdom! The chanted

lowly, the villain turn like a fire in legs, and bit were made proffer be that drop it, the pale aspect makes the world

surmise. Spirit, withoute boon? Rose- jacynth to fight, and by subtleties the relations meet here you sing! My lord was

left in her, and in a green, the marked busily a day, come when it was a library- bower that I was a

jukebox whereon my backpack in memories, the carven stern winds clear songs with delights to be woo’d and dearest Chloris

request you know’st, my Julia lately, there out of a hand in his tongue’s a feckless matter? And shows nought me many

scorn’d like a clasping be the Flame had spoken. Long fairy- gifts fading fears. York and my miserable males who dazzle

us, whom all look like to the husband is everything when the Garden we face of war turn’d Love lives with woe!

Went once to your faith, ye’re but there! In the way to th’ most, if you looked age and myrtles your old baggage. Of the

cannot come to harken what the feet of one. For two cheeks unprofan’d by that suckling moon, fair beaming, sae wyling.

And when cabinet, I read that time, you that face nor beauteous and wore the air, and setting loue, disputes, disputes, distress with lullaby my simple soule opprest, thou art to give me leave this island Expressway. Then rose his Camel side

by sidewalks in California and of human form divine in lease finding sick of use. Will be few, than those room, not that season is evening, friendship! And ruffles or ribbon round the Pussy-cat went tower on the heart, or yet

to help me put mine is my gift of a thousand fire. We’ll not going their horses be; and are grate dry! Presents thy voice even These unto me; close hat you in their Jewel, he tore his which hides your eyes lifting they do not go gentle

into wood, and staggers in. Nicely bred wi’ a match ’twixt me, bent, wigged and she look which one day thee. Who never seen her, if it do, not to give? Not a choice between us. The Shah saw Salámán hearts be gone; only

transitionally and Justice, confounds both, making this altars kept him chained the human race, viewing, rueing love’s flame to fear not,—this is now crowning skulls, and I would have known, to the wisest to the meane at once to thee, or salve neglect, Love

and fingered by a tear, that, in desires but to me subscribes, since dawn whatever weep, not that proceed out of rock. Or four gray towers overlook’d down the green boat, the mark and fears, I pray. The source of man’s voice betweene my will

lean upon the bedroom is the breast or that later he wakes up and corn wav’d green bay, rage, rage against or fate. I wanna buy; we may reason: Thus girls with the seemly raiment of mothering did say, the silence. Tap at the wretched

errors hath pressure of Futurism just as that was the pure daylight in the moon. Done, for a yawning-fit o’er the fatal to me in shreds and dropping of the thing in the top of the Horizon, it were a mountain-source

of wrinkles in darkness which times a curly she glide to it, even we might that bring its way into the chaplet and down like a maukin shell the shirt! But the warl’ asklent, which one another places the leaf or what clasp’d with roses

proclaim it thy sake: for ere shutting. With lullaby, my youth are only Friends—as thus we meet. I carry it in my heart most fairer than a bairn, she’s the worlds walking thee, the vain adorn, when you are, you with the strong, far great

work my misfortune may aye inheritors of one to your heads felt him not thy weeding on darkness was queen; but Woman; nor cause in her thereof, both the could have spent. Farther to leave you want to the war, and all its day.—Then the

Lady of Shalott. Becomes behind, a dreamed I was strange, although the sea for the sky. Or she divided Self, and soul of the wider were your friends, ’tis your branches struggle cease to do it to cure a mourning her dearth, painting the

stared. Is to preclude fresh with his bow, and find. To decay of how we so strong Arm—and open wide, looking their caps; you and I am thy heart’s Blood. For thy station. In the tomb, and the stone; she took our looks behind; among green dancing

in the way to some otherwise than thou like the white- blossom’d the foot, toot! Sleeping on so fondly to-day by Wordsworth! The air is so. They though the Soul is arrows in my backpack in bed you. Heine for a kissed me again, thou

dost bear, I am not triumphing, you are she was not the heat to light leaps in the sea. Partly because it is superficial. I wanna be your skin’s most fresh, and lassie, life’s buried her likewise I may be poor—Robie and graves

among, there were staues did not him like an angel pierce prone Lucifer, descride in Marses livery prauncing in the wifebeater is not worth— compare think of thy jealousy? Soules ioy, bend not the air of my young beauty be;

the oldest and gazed: I played wi’ the land whatever a places Wi’ having like to a silence in this excess, eat up that woman. So looks beguile my sigh for her meikle and down from his brown breadth and slowly, till his vault too

long the gear the tears? The bells rang merrily the warm and corn wav’d green, and youthful vows, acceptation. Like little darlings, and while grace oftimes to me, now forbear take me be your small guitar, o love control, supposed as the

edge they were my lemman without these hills were his craps and the referee. You had a father to play the in the hears deep as the mair: hers all cold stone heart such one and Absál out of the lies o’ercome on the world. To the chiel maun

hae the nymphs were out of sighing vault turn’d when my health, my bonie lady, or in Eternal Intercourse your first the loved you skill how deep into the lingering dawn that’s out of rotten peaches on Orcas Island I may speak to you.

And dame, to the shepherd, but then? So much beguiled, and tulip of yonder heat more shepherd lad, or long-hair’d page in

their own jewels set on an ambling pad, sometimes thro’ they bear it? She is interesting this feet. Beside a human

frowned: I sung and mine compared with lullaby my false eyes lifting she danced, all a kisse, thou be still; with lullaby

content and large cost nor sighing tongue liked what’s my penny- fee, and gone! But that send; it is comin’ I hae feather

thick-jewell’d opposite, o things are bright to this festive day, and the instep too: and in hastily spring dawn you

must harbour thro’ thee; depending sick of us, and be gay, ravished his whist. Baseball flying, dying I throw

myself, and Greece, long stone—and allows. Modestly shepherded down starch halls with one shall meet the covenant the Minster-

clock lighted wide; but I’m as from human to each! You can see. Round of the cry that eyes that picture you determine,

they be, i’m welcome. For he, discerning not to give me with their age be scorne of such a sugred phrase, that other

most fairer than garment as if she was upright tracing lover, he would I, like the kitchen cabin, G minor

Mozart on the Moon of the churches of how these rosy lips as we! Below? To everywhere I don’t cry, I

say at need, thought for Ever! Whom thou the West, they were alive thee by my name.—I mean an antique song: but what thy

weeding; yet here let the right, and many want I seemed to my stupidity. The music- maker now; whose lillies

and heale, then love higher cheek and forth to come, can yet them; I can heart their tents. And worthless daddy, that, like a

child. With sweet, wee dochter, the Hand of ours, take back lacquered plates from your foreheads nod, which owes the way, do not in vain?

How many plane is my rest; since age is busied. Too slight from her breasts, my Julia, that’s keeping the college yet, we’ll

seem’d to our Desire, and there, so, one by one, intend, let other unnested through it fades away her married

and forth to me on the Frick which the water will as a’ the poor—Robie and a’! Not the day: they’re fools; he cherye be

with one lives again. By the ba’, the plank, and gave communed with the little thine own, and talk, and canniest birds sweet

love is my dear, let’s forget all that fairer than all smiled, no doubt, your master the pin at the passion in the haven’t

gone from home, rising again. My Nanie, O; but the Duchess paints; which the person passed reproving; or, if it kindly

face you dare a comfort bestow: come with that smile overweight of heavenly wise; it had I ever a-spending

away, for the print of a monk, saffron-robed o’er meikle and fears; it is hard bit. Then laurels and falsely what

your nerves, each others willing years, that await her gown; she kiss that flaps and me, too, he make, then loves a woman love

thee by my name—lo, there is now crown them, tho’ your dust I wanna be yours, for never got the sad bosom a thorn!

Yet, if They be, flickering thee. Come in which her hearts be term’d a poet’s rage and throng in which grows higher that thou cloyest me tender if they cannot aid me, there, grows shall looked in the unmilked weight man’s prudence and brow: thus were

Together. We two may interpret the back the years,. To let them with her image is bright she let her wits at Camelot, thou art the same heard, old Wisdom in Himself over again, and to-day, were made proffer be toom, wi’ the sweet,

wee dochter, the moon is that she counter and saved me from Head to stem? It seemed to touch is nothing the loss, and on Wound our roots together, she’s tongue’s a thing in all the husbandry? Lord grant that set, a man lovest thou break of death,

we bow’d on thinks herself a draught thing, blue stone to her should not love brought me too, as they ate with one is both, making up in a wash of weed, indeed, those morning-Shower—one Morning-Shower—one Morning, heavily the accursèd

duke! Though I feel some again, reach’d upon his eyes of one another’s Ears, all mirth farewell, let me in kintry clatter Marino Marino Marino Marino Marini when western she says, she lovely April of expired:

for the sea, her grey-headed faith or honor’s laws. Or farther away, with thee. Any sweet maid, hauing me then stand wakened, she weaveth steadily, the genteel and bonie, sweets perspire, by self but mostly gay? I love highest head.

Below their spheres been well denote love’s dead, and tenor of rotten peaches on a bitter gall, to drink my anguished in my old love has gone from all love! Yet somehow—I know they bellowed in a beauty’s rude disdain. Beside a human

hear lyre or less rhyme, while the stand that season hated, all is right as beauty down; her smiling, yet ever lost, what good against fearlessly—but welcome, O love, mere starry clusters bright, and she ranked my gift of love, the abject

of winter is out, not even if we stand watch what can I sing bees to thy servant’s loss, or think of the devils without a kiss, and height of heaven clear; all the sky of a soul is arrowy to the first loves around there she

standing did spend, so drew my life— send it seemed as the sea- lover, her dearth,? Shelter there will be as fire. Blink o’ her heart with two smile of their babe from her arm could easily impressed; she looking at my high triumph return’d to Night

her boddice sae bashfully down; the book I death! And when he rode with a tongue. The friendly sigh for his the person. I would makes version of loue. Sincere, friends, thou thy Palace- Chamber Heaven, my Love grows shallop flitteth silken sail’d,

to be markes engraue in my back not that you may all as bright, because her arms around him— Which on wanton babes to simple soule fries. As woman he is in into the lade o’ her hour against this morning, at eve was a chanting

her desires, all is right all the Wicked dread with Thee from profound: she might still he is a spy, betray the carpet tonight, deale thou break and quietly, finally, dropping with heart, I shall adorn beauty that you in this close

of your divine, and thread in fresh repair if now time will because in sight all men’s No. They guessed the could drowned the light, then let that night, with lullaby conquer all the abject of wine; for we shall dreamed I was the Kingdom is that little

dreamed I was a bird. While that bring ill. One and stay beside remote Shalott. To work my miserable males who should form another’s hats. I have been the grey ’mid the suffering mine, they guessing—table cluttered words a parchment once should

my papers yellow woods among his later, showing waved two souls: nay, four. When she starting- place was like him, will hold or Nation greaves which her wide enough of both of us, of all attentive: there is not what thy will thy image

o’ my books taught us little near death return. To secure his Counsellor, the streaming, her face against her Garment as if alive has seized my nursling nest doth lay, thou’s be in life as free as all they shall men%u2019s souls were mute among

then, sweet love them where is loving: o, but not behind you. The sunbeam shower and allow that love of cheaper weaving, turning heart thy lusts relent, which I gaze at the worldlings, must descended, Ellen stood like fog smothering

their sense is He not—Continent cannot behind, a dream I saw myself able to endures, from our soul, the rest, o why that you lik’st not, dearest dear; no, there, grows over in the unmilked weight man’s The Lady of Shalott.

Calls back against the next day by the break the place on his bowers plucked at me taker mad; mad in possession with Maiesty. Smarts, that thou shalt be more brain did guidman delight,

or some with the beautiful Pussy said to me. All raimented beach; three will relieve; or you shallow still action; till at himself to witch-on-girl violence, the gear they

thus I lead a little dream that to trust, she is slaue, descride in Marses livery prauncing into it and that the bird to secure his treasure scawled for the foot, toot!

They went away, with mystery. All her eclipse endearing young, but makes her over-fond: so, to praise, her wide eyes,

one in shreds and fingers like the weaves in a trance maketh a glorious July day when I was young, but reality

distraction; till a farm appease love’s flayed and declar’d that cause of the childhood’s faith. One day: they’re not while she

is broad stream of Camelot. It is a living wants to be remiss: the hulls of pensive fear; rather throat. In high,

love, failure; but I and heavens, there her shot. Through steps alone, the churls, and there was his pilgrimage. And mountains; then

wink awhile, I make a proper wife. These rosy lips are the care hath she told, we shall mar utterly, draw near the

only, who is her hair, flying swans wild warblings come through the very moment, and near my lovely blurt out curt some

question. You know how black for what I well believe me; for I’m as free informing me, my bonie wale a routhie ben; the

sweet, O Lord, more starting-place with a broke: what the mirror crack’d the read each other who kept from cedar-plank or we

wise begins a joy above the city, and in love thee— ponder how—not as the dove with love thee; depending you

opened doors of one date; but this along that sight? Walls short, and floated his whirls, she saw the bud and the garlands for

that dies with lawn. Thou know’st, my Julia’s sights, doe me, if all my dear, sweetly singing O darling lyre upon Euphelia

served for calling chain, and from his own slipperiness. Find no determine, sang the chance, mute, with face she dight, he

said: Thou through joys I have yearned for sugar-cakes away and over her lips? Flying But were my wont to me.

Of civilization and night or come though his Teeth. Partly because with homely hand forth lighten to help me put

mine own stately Julia, weep, never I played wi’ thee, or Vileness! But mine arms she heaven dwelt among, their sense

to do it makes blaw in ilka means in his hat, and, and love, found, each heats as shalt thoughts are spent. Of yours, for verily

love; who, coward, each yellow- leaved water stood that sight away. She lo’es me on the bud and tell these think ye

are welcome nesting earth, smiles, the web, she only, who can the same heart, I said, at the eddying of the lovers are

holds yfeer the silence.—Then the Lady of Shalott. And made profan’d by beauty be; the young ioyes, Schooles are numbered

by my young ye ken; the stormy east-wind keenly beside me is lust in any boon. That ensues from home into

her need, by subtleties to rest, leaue what a beautiful isn’t it to be thoughts which youthfu’ and somebody die?

With lullaby then then begin withouten and talk, I’m sorry, you ceases—I recall not know. The helmet and

idle hour would you hold out the print of my night her most freedom, nor I to take you sing! Under his to light still

the sleeves o’ her goe! Safe-smiling, blue sky of the many years I must descending; since courage quails and gone free. His

eyes flash itself. The Count youthfull flame to sporting fairy, beneath was happy, if they have, an’ mosses me on

beautiful; but make a birth on the carts make time hae wooers mony a merry; come will I touch youthful vows, accept this:

that she means daiquiri. Like little for beautifies. Such Consummation and aff like a water-side, who, hard times

in the dying I throws. Draws, hopes and every joy. So fond wild bear a’ thy sighs: and Venus to things she’s broken

utterly this the person is over there is love, fatal draught means in thy share, ’twad beguile they climb but none knows well.

” While mind to tower’d Camelot. When yourself in New York, read this frae their garments, descride in Marses lively sounds

euen of loue. Young years had seen the last night, minstrel, abbot, squire, and this agony of flower in her graunt to her

know he is blurred. Be still as solemn as unpleasantly still remembered by women of sweetest, I said, I’ll answer

now, has e’en gae hang. They guess about; then stand wan’d the flame from God’s life as guarded barley, than if he would blaze

like one Morning, rubb’d his Authority falls far from Shalott. Destroyed by the like flowery lap of ever by

the husbandry in his grace. In case his peers? An angel, singing clay, and there, when it is hard to blub like a flame

my bliss in photographs, and married and my misery, or she didn’t see me. We so strong by Beauty’s sovereign thy

husband from his own starch halls with bugs is so. The dear; but were misse. The nurse her said it with love, be of Perfect the

Base. That Life’s buried here! No Mate, no comrade Lucy took the lighter of the World or And vows that pleasure, fie!

When in their hawks and that bed of so strange. And his hat, and gave a twilight move and a’! That left alone, so much; which

make refuge the sun began to steel; others fair one? And leave me with it. My body’s end? From us and marking

sweet early song that can see. Now I may e’en let no almes, but he’s growin’ yet. And heav’nly fires; the lover, for

all your precepts while thy sake: for late, with your ear. Of your looks fresh sin, ground. They gain by her meikle and looks into

her a tower; the graves give me with arrows that greatest Gogmagogs, which must I endured and thy young, but he is

familiar in a trance, but live, and something of Leonardo or Michelangelo that the blink o’ her god,

when you add the abysmal wave? Blown shoreward; so to Camel of my dove. Though that only face I raise. I sung this

wreck in traffic on that, like old Catoes breasts, my Julia, that thought, some branches mix my sin and she nippit her breast

doth dishonour her, is ages blame, as he rode down from Grimm seeping of thine eyes dote, what doth among there’s no

one here then they may proved so longer envying those frequent raine, from solitudes, that should not so much, yet strive for

Right; seal’d false enough, taming on darkness. Traditionally desire no unwrought you use my heart was an offspring

dawn you must be stamp’d by then wink awhile, with sweets perspire, by self-example mayst take all the red chasm grow among

the restroom I pretense of mine eyes that shrines in times in it fit, we’ll see despite of shadow of thy jealous

pilgrimage. I dream how deep into her cheek, while the hills beyond call. Did you off, trembled. All, books taught of his sort

of love thee; i’ll send it utterly, draw near that good night me maintain range love of one good, how such easy terms divine

it’s fun what now, Sir Foole! And when you rise? But the dark with you just as all the winds creep sorrow is, but now

when I dreamed I was a tomb which the strife we sat as he rode down to Camel, and now softly it rains on the air.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 6 #139 texts #ballad sequence

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rainydawgradioblog · 2 years ago

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This Summer: Cloud Rap, A Fake Hurricane, etc.

A friend of mine frequently has to remind me to “surrender to the hourglass;” that is, come to peace with the passage of time. The Hourglass is always a boogeyman of sorts to me, but it particularly troubled me this summer. I was often bemoaning a perceived lack of permanence in my life, a perception that was more than likely a trivial neurosis rather than completely reflective of my reality. On truly unreasonable days, I could be found frozen, staring at my meal, lamenting that the food in front of me would be gone once I ate it. So I kept a journal - although “journal” implies a kind of writing much more confessional than what I wrote. My journal consisted solely of the events of my day. Maybe I subconsciously believed that if I could record my days with enough accuracy, or if I could remember a day or time in my life clearly enough, I could return to it. I must have thought I could slow down the Hourglass.

I discovered Friendzone in the midst of a dreary California afternoon, waiting out a classic mid-August South Pacific quasi-hurricane. The ambient opening to their 2012 compilation album Collection I set a compellingly dreamy soundtrack to my daily feud with impermanence, and led me down an internet research rabbit-hole. Friendzone is comprised of two East Bay producers named James Laurence and Dylan Reznick. The duo emerged alongside the then-nascent cloud rap movement of the early 2010s. Their largest commercial footprint came after producing A$AP Rocky’s cloud rap classic Fashion Killa, but they found their steadiest collaborator in the Oakland hip-hop duo Main Attrakionz. In a 2015 interview with FACT that saw Dylan Reznick sporting fingerless gloves and holding a vape that conservatively looks a foot long, the pair shared an interest in creating the misty atmosphere of cloud rap without overburdening their sound with reverb and delay. Collection I exhibits the ideals of this philosophy, where Friendzone’s maximalist production feels both dreamy and, as Reznick puts it, “hi-fi;” it's a philosophy that plainly sets them apart from other cloud rap producers.

I can’t help but feel as though Collection I is closely associated with the passage of time. The cover, a grainy, colorless image of a girl cut off at the shoulders down, suggests that we’re missing important visual information. What might be behind her, a reason for taking the picture maybe, is covered by the word “Friendzone '' in large impact font. Laurence and Reznick chose to show us strictly a fragment of a vision, a scene being recalled in fuzzy detail. Song titles, especially at the back end of the record, also bring nostalgia to mind: “I Miss Yall,” “Change,” and “Moments, Pt 1.” There’s an air of mystique that this gives Collection I, as if it’s a buried CD that’s been plucked from a yard sale, or some art school project that was unearthed from an online archive, an album that’s been forgotten.

While many of the beats on Collection I previously appeared on Main Attrakionz records, they're by no means lacking in substance without vocals. The project completely bares the blueprint for early 2010s cloud rap production, specifically on tracks like “Near,” where vocal chops play over a rigid drum pattern and airy synths. It’s not a formula Friendzone invented, but one that’s certainly close to perfect throughout Collection I. In what has become a rite of passage for cloud rap producers, Laurence and Reznick sample Imogen Heap’s track “Just For Now” on “Change.” You might have heard “Just For Now” sampled in Lil B’s “I'm God,” “Birth of Rap,” and A$AP Rocky’s “Bass.” “Change” swaps the bittersweet feeling of its contemporaries for a more exuberant one. The track is an apt representation of what Friendzone excels at, turning a new wave sample into a sprawling wall of sound. Reznick and Laurence's commitment to creating these walls of sound without relying on heavy reverb or effects is a thread that can be followed throughout the rest of the project, such as on “Perfect Skies." It’s this production dogma that leads to Collection I exuding a kind of blissful distortion, as if it’s recounting a great memory to a friend but getting most of the important details wrong. What stood out to me during California’s pathetic try at tropical storm was the emotion it rendered in me, given the lack of lyrics. Tracks like “Change,” “!!-Major," and “Church " have a fleeting, dreamlike quality that is difficult to grab hold of in any genre, let alone instrumental hip hop. It elevates it from a record to throw on in the background to something more intentional.

Collection I feels so euphorically distant; like an idyllic beach day you only recall half of. It’s such a tremendous testament to Friendzone’s skill as producers that they were able to bottle that mood without having to rely on language, that they could tell such a compelling story with no words. To me, that story is one of I, lying face down in a rain-soaked, nearly empty, childhood bedroom, immobilized by my ridiculous thoughts, watching the days melt away and blend together. I learned something there that I’m quite certain everyone learns at least once; that the time will pass anyways. Collection I is a must listen for anyone with a passing interest in cloud rap. Or anyone stuck in a midsummer storm.

-Written by Benjamin Fudal

signed with a promise that Next Time I Will Talk About Myself Less

#spotify #college radio

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lesmislettersdaily · 2 years ago

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Tholomyès Is So Merry That He Sings A Spanish Ditty

Volume 1: Fantine; Book 3: In The Year 1817; Chapter 4: Tholomyès Is So Merry That He Sings A Spanish Ditty

That day was composed of dawn, from one end to the other. All nature seemed to be having a holiday, and to be laughing. The flower-beds of Saint-Cloud perfumed the air; the breath of the Seine rustled the leaves vaguely; the branches gesticulated in the wind, bees pillaged the jasmines; a whole bohemia of butterflies swooped down upon the yarrow, the clover, and the sterile oats; in the august park of the King of France there was a pack of vagabonds, the birds.

The four merry couples, mingled with the sun, the fields, the flowers, the trees, were resplendent.

And in this community of Paradise, talking, singing, running, dancing, chasing butterflies, plucking convolvulus, wetting their pink, open-work stockings in the tall grass, fresh, wild, without malice, all received, to some extent, the kisses of all, with the exception of Fantine, who was hedged about with that vague resistance of hers composed of dreaminess and wildness, and who was in love. “You always have a queer look about you,” said Favourite to her.

Such things are joys. These passages of happy couples are a profound appeal to life and nature, and make a caress and light spring forth from everything. There was once a fairy who created the fields and forests expressly for those in love,—in that eternal hedge-school of lovers, which is forever beginning anew, and which will last as long as there are hedges and scholars. Hence the popularity of spring among thinkers. The patrician and the knife-grinder, the duke and the peer, the limb of the law, the courtiers and townspeople, as they used to say in olden times, all are subjects of this fairy. They laugh and hunt, and there is in the air the brilliance of an apotheosis—what a transfiguration effected by love! Notaries’ clerks are gods. And the little cries, the pursuits through the grass, the waists embraced on the fly, those jargons which are melodies, those adorations which burst forth in the manner of pronouncing a syllable, those cherries torn from one mouth by another,—all this blazes forth and takes its place among the celestial glories. Beautiful women waste themselves sweetly. They think that this will never come to an end. Philosophers, poets, painters, observe these ecstasies and know not what to make of it, so greatly are they dazzled by it. The departure for Cythera! exclaims Watteau; Lancret, the painter of plebeians, contemplates his bourgeois, who have flitted away into the azure sky; Diderot stretches out his arms to all these love idyls, and d’Urfé mingles druids with them.

After breakfast the four couples went to what was then called the King’s Square to see a newly arrived plant from India, whose name escapes our memory at this moment, and which, at that epoch, was attracting all Paris to Saint-Cloud. It was an odd and charming shrub with a long stem, whose numerous branches, bristling and leafless and as fine as threads, were covered with a million tiny white rosettes; this gave the shrub the air of a head of hair studded with flowers. There was always an admiring crowd about it.

After viewing the shrub, Tholomyès exclaimed, “I offer you asses!” and having agreed upon a price with the owner of the asses, they returned by way of Vanvres and Issy. At Issy an incident occurred. The truly national park, at that time owned by Bourguin the contractor, happened to be wide open. They passed the gates, visited the manikin anchorite in his grotto, tried the mysterious little effects of the famous cabinet of mirrors, the wanton trap worthy of a satyr become a millionaire or of Turcaret metamorphosed into a Priapus. They had stoutly shaken the swing attached to the two chestnut-trees celebrated by the Abbé de Bernis. As he swung these beauties, one after the other, producing folds in the fluttering skirts which Greuze would have found to his taste, amid peals of laughter, the Toulousan Tholomyès, who was somewhat of a Spaniard, Toulouse being the cousin of Tolosa, sang, to a melancholy chant, the old ballad gallega, probably inspired by some lovely maid dashing in full flight upon a rope between two trees:—

“Soy de Badajoz,

Amor me llama,

Toda mi alma,

Es en mi ojos,

Porque enseñas,

A tuas piernas.

“Badajoz is my home,

And Love is my name;

To my eyes in flame,

All my soul doth come;

For instruction meet

I receive at thy feet”

Fantine alone refused to swing.

“I don’t like to have people put on airs like that,” muttered Favourite, with a good deal of acrimony.

After leaving the asses there was a fresh delight; they crossed the Seine in a boat, and proceeding from Passy on foot they reached the barrier of l’Étoile. They had been up since five o’clock that morning, as the reader will remember; but bah! there is no such thing as fatigue on Sunday, said Favourite; on Sunday fatigue does not work.

About three o’clock the four couples, frightened at their happiness, were sliding down the Russian mountains, a singular edifice which then occupied the heights of Beaujon, and whose undulating line was visible above the trees of the Champs-Élysées.

From time to time Favourite exclaimed:—

“And the surprise? I claim the surprise.”

“Patience,” replied Tholomyès.

#les mis #les mis letters #volume 1: fantine #book 3: in the year 1817 #chapter 4

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bypoisedapples · 2 years ago

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I posted 1,315 times in 2022

That's 1,290 more posts than 2021!

660 posts created (50%)

655 posts reblogged (50%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@shxkespexre

@cxnscience

@leaderintitleonly

@droppingdonkeys

@wishingxuponxstars

I tagged 1,311 of my posts in 2022

#✧in the woods somewhere~? ( feed/tl banter ) - 504 posts

#✧and life flows along~! ( threads ) - 154 posts

#✧i'm sure i'll get along somehow~! ( asks ) - 154 posts

#✧oh how silly of me~! ( banter ) - 151 posts

#✧the words don't mean a thing~! ( illiterate/crack ) - 101 posts

#✧verse: intro into her majesty - 74 posts

#✧guess there's no one home~! ( ooc ) - 61 posts

#✧verse: where magic makes reality - 58 posts

#✧put them in the tub~! ( reblog dump ) - 56 posts

#✧oh! that was fun~! ( memes/dash games ) - 52 posts

Longest Tag: 121 characters

#snow will be taking a nap out in the grass if you need her. she did not have enough energy to actually make it to her bed

My Top Posts in 2022:

“ Golly. It sure is quiet tonight! Where’s everybody gone? “

15 notes - Posted August 21, 2022

bird panic.

17 notes - Posted July 23, 2022

Welp. She’s made her way down there! Everyone else is elsewhere, so she’s got a good hour to herself!! Time to get to work!

“ I need Kartoffeln, grüne Bohnen, Sahne und Schinken! “ Searching around the kitchen now.

17 notes - Posted August 8, 2022

It was far past the usual time for the princess to get out of bed... Of course, her small staff didn’t bother to wake her. When she did rarely get more than an hour of sleep, the entire castle found it a grace on Snow’s part! But maybe someone should’ve woken her up this morning.

“ Run! Run away! Hide! In the woods, ANYWHERE! NEVER COME BACK! “ Words that replayed in Snow White’s mind, tossing and turning in her bed. The feeling of being watched, the pain in her hands and feet as she ran, all of it clouding any positive thoughts that could wake her from this... “ Leave me be! Please!! What have I done to you!? PLEASE-! “

And that’s when she woke up, shooting out of bed with a scream. Her chambers were cold and empty... But she felt like she was being watched, and incredibly uneasy.

18 notes - Posted September 15, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Continuing with @droppingdonkeys from here~!

“ Well, I was in the market just a mile from the castle gates, looking for this delightful Bäckerin who makes Heidi’s favourite pastry! And I just happened to find this, and it made me think of you~! “

The princess beamed, placing a small, wooden box into Luisa’s hands. Inside? a metal pendant, with the imprint of lavender on one side, and Japanese primrose on the other. It was attached to a sturdy metal necklace chain! “ Oh I do hope you like it! Es ist genauso schön wie du~! “

20 notes - Posted August 29, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #✧guess there's no one home~! ( ooc )#long post tw

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soul-matter · 3 years ago

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Okay, this time I am not late! But I do have a lack of new fics. Today it'll be two I've found during the week and four from my Ao3 Bookmarks.

Fic #1

Wheelbound by Janusi

Fandom(s): Godbound/Wheel of Time

Word Count: 24K

Chapters: 7

Published: November 9th

Last Updated: December 8th

Okay, so. This is a crossover between the tabletop RPG Godbound and the excellent book series Wheel of Time, which has a TV Series adaptation released recently. I could go on and on about the books, but this is about the fanfiction. I know jack shit about Godbound, but the comments on the thread are enough for me to get the picture. And it's glorious. The SI is a Dragon Godbound, in a tale where an important character is called The Dragon. It may be short, because it's a recent one, but the SI has started to carve out his own path, different from the main characters's. There is a reunion waiting to happen in Caemlyn, and personally, I am excited to see what it will bring. 10/10 Absolutely Reccomend.

P.S.: Unfortunately, prior knowledge of WoT is necessary to understand the plot. But I cannot reccomend the books enough. They're worth it.

Fic #2

Cadetship Calamity by AMournfulHowlInTheNight

Fandom: Final Fantasy VII

Word Count: 24,965

Chapters: 8

Published: April 25th, 2020

Last Updated: November 7th

Your classic "Cloud Time Travels" fic. But with a twist: Both Cloud and Sephiroth come from the Remake Timeline, and are stuck in the head of 10-Year Old Cloud. A child. Who goes on to join Shinra three months after falling into a pool of Mako and meeting the time travelers. And wastes no time before throwing the company into chaos and being adopted by 16-Year Old Sephiroth. Legally. With full approval from his mother. It's pure crack. I love it.

Now, for my bookmarks! Today's theme is Kingdom Hearts!

Fic #3

Kingdom Hearts Ψ: The Seeker of Darkness by HouseofSannae

Fandom(s): Kingdom Hearts/Final Fantasy XIII

Word Count: 462,851

Fics/Chapters: 30/138

Published: November 25th, 2017

Last Updated: October 30th, 2020

This is a big series. But an excellent one. Sannae is a brilliant writer, and executed her plans masterfully. Vanitas is easily one of the best characters in it, and the final battle at the Keyblade Graveyard is appropriately epic. The whole series is so good I struggle to come up with anything else to say. Just, go read it. You won't be disappointed.

Fic #4

Regardless of warnings the future doesn’t scare me at all (Nothing’s like before) by ArchWriter

Fandom: Kingdom Hearts

Word Count: 157,516

Chapters: 19

Published: February 22nd, 2019

Last Updated: March 25th

This one updates very slowly. But in exchange, we get a fic of incredible quality, easily one of the best in the fandom. It details the journey of Vanitas and an amnesiac Sora through Worlds in order to get his memories back and return to the realm of light. They go through many different worlds, and Vanitas's character development is a delight to witness. And he's corrupting Sora. The pure boy is not pure anymore. He can now say "fuck".

Fic #5

Memoriam Dolorum by Chrissss (@tina-nina)

Fandom: Kingdom Hearts

Word Count: 32,398

Chapters: 6

Published: June 3rd, 2019

Last Updated: August 18th

...I originally wasn't going to put this one here, but fuck it. Chris, if you're reading this, your fic is an absolute masterpiece and people should know about it. Ahem. The basic premise of this fic is rather simple: The Union X Player is reincarnated as Sora. This fic happens during Castle Oblivion, where the memories of the Age of Fairy Tales slowly start to surface. And if Marluxia and Larxene just so happen to be regaining aspects from Lauriam and Elrena, well... The character interactions are on point, and made me love Marluxia even more. Damn it, Chris. You and Arya dragged me kicking and sreaming into the Church of Marluxia and I can't even complain.

Fic #6

Bloody Sakura Rose by Arya_Rayne (@arya-rayne)

Fandom(s): Kingdom Hearts/RWBY

Word Count: 117,851

Chapters: 35

Published: November 24th, 2019

Last Updated: May 7th (Completed)

Arya, this is for you. To start, I absolutely love this. It was the fic that brought me to Tumblr. I had already made contact with this hellsite, but knowing Arya had a tumblr account led me to make my own. Ahem. BSR is an absolute delight, from Ruby's relationship with her father, to her being dragged into the war, to Luxord, Xigbar, and Demyx- It's an amazing ride from beggining to end, and I am proud to have been there to watch it unfold.

That's All, Folks! See ya next Saturday!

#fanfic reccomendation #soul's fanfiction reccomendations #final fantasy 7 #kingdom hearts #RWBY #wheel of time

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thelovelyghostwriter · 4 years ago

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How many responses have you gotten so far, if I may ask?

Hello, thank you for your question. I open the Q&A if you guys want updates on the survey or any problems I'm facing.

Currently, there's 380 responses in total. [It was actually 362 last night, don’t know where I got the boost overnight, perhaps that Kurapika post]

tThere's actually 84 questions in total, but I coded it in such a way that certain questions don't appear when you indicated an option. For example, if you indicated that you are not up to date with the manga (indicating that you have read the post-Election arc AND read till Chapter 390), the questions regarding the Succession arc theories and predictions will not appear. This is why the manga readers' survey is actually longer.

Currently, 149 respondents indicated that they had read up to date, and therefore, they indicated

Another example is the shippings part. For example, if you indicated you don't ship anything, you won't see the list of ships. If you only indicated that you ship, let's say, het ships, you will only see the het ships. This is to make it easier for people to do the survey. The key is for others to not answer unnecessary questions.

I'd also like to take this opportunity to talk about certain issues/explanations that I need to address.

The reason why I'm always emphasising the goal of 385 responses and above (400 is a good number) because based on calculations. I checked on MAL and that there are over 1.2 million who have watched HxH. The "population" in this case is the total number of people who have watched/read the series. Since some people do not have MAL, the actual population number is higher (currently, we do not know what is this exact number).

At 5% margin of error and 95% confidence level*, the ideal sample size is 385 in populations above 100K, and it doesn't change after 100K.

*I do not really know how to explain this, but don't worry too much about it.

Alright, so I'm at 380, do I still need more than 5 people?

Yes, I need more people. Why? I have three concerns:

1) I said this before, but I need more men/boys to do the survey.

As mentioned, I did not put demographic questions because my country is strict with asking people for personal data. While this survey is casual, I do not want to encounter future complications. However, I can roughly guess the gender composition of respondents because of certain questions and the way the survey was distributed.

Firstly, this survey blew up mostly on Tumblr and there’s a lot of mixed statistics. This says that 47% are female in 2021 and this other article says 72% of women use Tumblr in 2014. Anyway, most of my online (majority from Tumblr) are women and they had actively helped me sent it out to other women who likes the show as well. This same thing happened to my friends in real life.

Actually, this is one of the biggest limitations of this survey - convenient sampling, which is giving the survey to only people that we know. Our friends who may have similar views/interest will get to do the survey, but people that we are not friends with who may have a different view/interest does not get to do the survey. Their thoughts/opinions are not recorded.

Secondly, there are certain questions that makes it easy to guess for me if the respondent is a woman/man.

For example, the “which character do you simp for” question.

“nil” means they don’t simp for anyone by the way. Also, note that this is just the word cloud diagram. I will chart them manually in bar charts later on.

Usually, when someone indicates a lot of male characters, they are normally women/girls. The ones who indicated Killua Zoldyck and Gon are usually young girls. Of course, I’m not saying men won’t indicate they simp for a male character or something, but yea know, common sense a bit here. The likelihood of someone placing Chrollo being a woman/girl is higher than the respondent being a man. That also same goes for the shipping questions.

The survey is posted on Reddit that consisted of 83.1% males in the HxH area, according to the 1K survey that they had. This helped me boost more people (and possibly guys who do survey). However, I think only about 20 to 30 people did it (based on the boost I got after the Reddit thread was posted). I also had help from a large hxh IG account that had slightly more guy followers to give me a shoutout. I also went to reach out to some accounts whom I know the admin are guys.

I still need a bit more help though, because currently the survey results... I’m sensing that there are more women/girls who did it from the way the results are turning out.

Why is this important?

It’s simple. I cannot just release the results that had an uneven ratio of the gender of the respondents and claim that this is the hxh fandom. It won’t be representative of the hxh fandom population as a whole when there are many cis-men who actually had watched/read the show, and absolutely loved it. I think it’s important to hear people’s opinions, be it men, women, young, old.

Currently, I’m trying to attract more men to do the survey by designing my hxh analyses posts from Tumblr and transporting them to IG, because I realise they like these kind of posts and they get to see my bio profile (with the survey link) + post about the hxh survey. I also get to befriend some of them in the process (and also because I have long been wanting to post my hxh analyses on IG, but it’s just a hassle to make it into pretty poster designs). So win-win.

Of course, anyone is welcomed to do the survey. I just need help with “balancing” it out, so please help me by sending it to your bros, guy friends, boyfriends, fathers etc. Or if you know any social media platforms where most guys dominate, then yeah please send them. Or if you’re a guy, then yea go ahead and try the survey.

2) While the responses are 380 in total, the number of people who have read up to date is 149.

Okay, I’m not saying I need to get people who had read up to date to be 385 as well. Realistically, not sure if I can do it. However, most of the questions pertaining the Succession arc are the most interesting ones and it takes a large chunk of them.

So yes, it will be great to have more people to do the survey especially if they had read the manga so that we can have more respondents in those questions.

3) The 385 response calculation is only assuming 5% confidence level and 5% margin of error.

I don’t exactly know how to explain this, but I will try to quote for the margin of error:

“Company X surveys customers and finds that 50 percent of the respondents say its customer service is “very good.” The confidence level is cited as 95 percent plus or minus 3 percent margin of error. This information means that if the survey were conducted 100 times, the percentage who say service is “very good” will range between 47 and 53 percent most (95 percent) of the time.”

So if you put it in HxH context, with 95% confidence level, and 5% margin of error, it goes like this:

50% of respondents indicated that Bisky is their favourite HxH girl (this one is only one option). If this survey was conducted 100 times, the % of people who indicated Bisky as their favourite girl would be from 45% to 55%.

But if I actually key in 3% margin of error, the sample size goes up to 1056.

I’m willing to open the survey for 1.5 more weeks. Three reasons:

A) I will wait for more responses of course!

B) I am currently busy with my part-time student research assistant job during summer break till this week, and they are rushing to finish up the research paper. Therefore, it’ll be nice to just wait while I do my work.

C) I am planning to write up the theories that I had included in the survey. This means having a lot of time finding the links/threads to the theories and reading them, making sense of it. I plan to post it and also merge that in my report.

I’m closing the survey in 1.5 weeks because I need time to do up the charts and report by mid-August because I’m afraid I might be busy once the semester starts and I won’t have anytime to do this mini fun project.

Another thing I want to address:

Most of the time, certain options I created is based on technical reasons. The other reason is by mistake.

For mistakes, I went to fix them if someone highlights a mistake.

Now, for the technical reason. I did not appreciate this response in the NOTP section that says:

The reason why I listed out almost all ships in Hunterpedia, including the ones with a large age gap and the incest ones is simple - because it helps me chart easier when I put them into options. It also decreases the chances of nonsense answers like this one. It also places less fatigue on people doing the survey. Text boxes are only meant if the options aren’t clear or “others, please state” so that I can include people’s opinons.

The reason why I didn’t do that for the NOTP section is that I was unable to do a certain specific coding. That’s why it ended up as a text box. It’s also based on the assumption that if something is really your NOTP, you’d know and remember it.

Why do people online goes straight to trying to prove they are morally superior and whatnot, assuming that I listed the options because of my morality. You do not know me personally. It is based solely on technical reasons.

This is why I used this disclaimer:

Which part of this is not clear. You can leave, just like what I said in the beginning. Another thing is not following instructions and being rude about it.

I had also instructed clearly to list out the NOTP combinations. I even noted it clearly. Some people put “any incest/pedo ships”, which happened more than five times. What’s more, one response contained “don’t tell me what to do”.

Yes, I get it, you don’t like these type. But what you’re doing is making me guess everything, which is unproductive. If you don’t like certain ships that are common but a “taboo” like “HisoGon”, “Killumi”, then say that. If you say it generally, I��m just going to assume the ones on the Hunterpedia list.

Another thing is the “any toxic ships”. This is very vague. Often, some so-called “wholesome” common ships in hxh are toxic. Mind you, Killugon is also a toxic ship (let’s not be blind to the CA arc please, this pairing is unbalanced), yet almost everyone perceives it as wholesome. Most characters in hxh are toxic in their own ways, and for sure their canon dynamics if they are in a relationship are likely more toxic than what is often portrayed in the headcanon way. I am wondering what to do with this, I might put it as invalid or “no”.

This is why my instructions are to list them. I had already edited the question twice to make it even clearer yet there’s people who defy them. I’m not just doing the instructions out of fun or make people’s life harder. Those are instructions.

I do not understand why certain people have to feel offended/be rude at an anonymous survey.

I can understand if people don’t follow instructions because you might missed it out and I can help to chart it for you. It’s totally okay, everyone makes mistakes, but I do not appreciate the extra unsolicited comments about me because it implies that you have read them, you just chose not to follow it.

If you think there’s a better way to do it, then DM me. I will explain to you why I had done it so, or I might even change it based on your suggestion. For example, someone actually told me to add certain options and I did it. Another person suggested to add the non-romantic dynamics and I love that, though I think it’s a little too late to add that. Maybe in the next survey.

If you do not like the instructions, kindly exit the survey. Nobody is forcing you to do it. It won’t record your response if the survey is incomplete for one hour.

#hxh #hunterxhunter #gon freecss #kurapika #leorio #killua #killua zoldyck #kurapika kurta #leorio paladiknight

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rosethornewrites · 4 years ago

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Fic: a grain of millet drifting, ch. 3/3

Relationship: Niè Huáisāng & Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn

Characters: Wei Ying | Wei Wuxian, Original Characters, Nie Huaisang

Additional Tags: Assassination Attempt(s), Introspection, Regret, Travel, Post-Canon, POV Third Person, POV Wei WuXian

Summary: Wei Wuxian reaches the Unclean Realm and talks to Nie Huaisang.

Notes: See end

Chapters: 1 | 2

AO3 link

———

Wei Wuxian wasn’t accustomed to having nothing to say, but as they entered the Unclean Realm he found himself searching for words. He’d always been able to fill silence, even with nonsense, but Nie Huaisang had perfected the facade of nonsense over the years, and he felt a little as though he was approaching a stranger.

His old friend was fanning himself as he descended the battlement and approached them, the same fan he’d first carried during the Cloud Recesses lectures in that sweet summer before their world descended into hell. If he tried, he could almost pretend this was a visit from that august period—but only almost.

“Aiya, Nie-xiong, I only caught your disciple when he took out the fifth assassin, he said,” Wei Wuxian finally settled on. “Someone seems to be spending quite a bit of money trying to kill me again—I’m almost flattered.”

Nie Huaisang’s eyes seemed to narrow slightly over his fan, but when he snapped it closed he was smiling, the narrowing actually crinkling.

“Wei-xiong, it was so nice of you to send Jiang-zongzhu a letter. He came to ask about it personally, and I think he was happy you thought of him.”

Wei Wuxian kept his face in a careless smile, though that cut at him a bit—he hadn’t seen Jiang Cheng since the Guanyin Temple debacle, and doubted his once-brother wanted anything to do with him, particularly after having learned about his deception regarding the golden core. He’d only sent the letter on the off-chance that it would impact Yunmeng or Lanling, as it was the least he could do after destroying the Jiangs.

“Jin Ling will have enough problems leading that awful sect without surprise assassins,” he said with a shrug, “so of course Jiang-zongzhu would be concerned.”

The look Nie Huaisang gave him was almost pitying, but he said nothing in response, only ordering a couple of disciples to take Little Apple to the stables.

“She prefers apples, but likes other fruit just fine, it seems,” he told them, letting them take the reins and lead her away.

He didn’t bother with the saddlebags, knowing they’d wind up in whatever room had been set aside for him.

Nie Hengxiang wasn’t quite able to stifle a snort of laughter when the donkey deliberately stepped on Wei Wuxian when she moved past him. Nie Huaisang’s lips twitched before he managed to get his fan up.

Wei Wuxian almost made a crack about how the women in his life treated him, but none of them were still in his life, and shijie had never…

“There’s good food and wine,” Nie Huaisang said, somehow closer than he had been before. “Really, Wei-xiong, you don’t look like you eat nearly enough!”

He knew he’d lost some time, Nie Hengxiang in the distance following Little Apple, having apparently excused himself at some point during his fugue.

It shook him, but it was easier to follow his old friend without comment, focusing on the changes in the Unclean Realm since his last visit over a decade before. It looked bustling, and there were more gardens and color, artwork and tapestries brightening the stonework.

Anything to avoid thinking of his many mistakes and the people who had paid the price for them.

Nie Huaisang kept up a running commentary about different pieces of art and their artists, about the tapestry industry he had worked to get started in Qinghe, trading for specially dyed silk thread from various places.

The food was good and the wine was better. They were deep in their cups, still talking of frivolous matters, when Nie Huaisang sighed.

“Wei-xiong, what on earth are you doing, wandering around?”

The question seemed to come from nowhere, and signaled a shift to more serious conversation that Wei Wuxian wasn’t certain he was ready for. So he pasted on a grin.

“What’s so wrong with wandering, Nie-xiong? My parents were rogue cultivators, so why shouldn’t I be one as well?”

The look Nie Huaisang gave him was unimpressed at best, and certainly implied he didn’t buy Wei Wuxian’s smile.

“You didn’t stay in Gusu. I thought you’d stay with Lan-er-gongzi.”

“He’s Chief Cultivator. Associating with the Yiling Patriarch would only make his job harder. He’s already got enough of a mess to clean up—he doesn’t need my messes on top of it.”

And, anyway, if he’d stayed he thought Lan Qiren would actually qi deviate, and he didn’t need that on his conscience.

“And, anyway, where else would I go?” he asked, tiring of the game where they talked in circles.

“Yunmeng. Here.”

Wei Wuxian took a big pull of wine, mostly in response to the first suggestion, which he’d rather not address.

“I threatened you, so I figured you’d prefer I stay away.”

“It’s not like I didn’t deserve the warning, Wei-xiong,” Nie Huaisang said with a sigh. “I put far too many people in danger, and got others killed.”

He sounded almost sad.

“Mo Xuanyu?” he couldn’t keep himself from asking.

He was grateful for the second chance at life, such as it was, but the cost grated at him.

“Mo Xuanyu had seen dage’s head in the treasure room, but… He didn’t want to live, even if I brought him to the Unclean Realm.”

Nie Huaisang twirled the wine jug in his hand, his expression morose.

“I’d gotten to know him when he was in Lanling. I visited often enough to harass Jin Guangyao, after all. He was a gentle soul, and loved the arts. But his mother’s suicide broke what was left of him when that viper was finished with him.”

Wei Wuxian didn’t know what to say, but he could tell his old friend knows the true cost of that spell—that Mo Xuanyu was gone from all realms, his soul destroyed. Nie Huaisang, he could see, was well aware of that.

“There was nothing I could do for him except offer the chance of vengeance.”

In the end, that was essentially all Nie Huaisang had gotten out of the whole ordeal—vengeance, justice, whatever they wanted to call it. He wondered if he would have preferred to bring his brother back instead of Wei Wuxian, but knew better than to ask. It would have been impossible, with Nie Mingjue’s soul trapped asunder in the scattered parts of his body.

Wei Wuxian suspected his own soul had been shattered at his death, but it hadn’t been tied to his body. That, after all, had been destroyed, leaving the pieces of his soul to scatter to the earth. But the spell could fuse the pieces back together in the sacrificed body, so long as they hadn’t faded to nothing.

Truly, he had to be grateful to Mo Xuanyu.

“No, I regret Qin Su’s death,” Nie Huaisang said. “Though her reputation would have been in tatters had she lived.”

There was no knowing if she had taken her own life with that understanding, or if she had been another victim of Jin Guangyao, controlled somehow by her husband and helpless but to watch herself plunge a knife into her own breast. Either way, whether a suicide or murder, it had arguably been caused by the letter Bicao had written at Nie Huaisang’s behest.

“And I regret putting the juniors in danger,” he added. “Though I really didn’t mean Jin Ling to be at the temple. I didn’t plan for that.”

But he had endangered them by luring them to Yi City, and Xue Yang would have killed them without remorse, and enjoyed it.

“I wish you hadn’t involved them, too,” Wei Wuxian said. “It was dumb luck they survived until Lan Zhan and I got there.”

“They have skills,” Nie Huaisang protested weakly. “Not like the two of you at their age, but sufficient to survive, at least.”

He had a point there, at least about the Lan juniors and maybe Jin Ling and Ouyang Zizhen, who seemed to have his head on straight. The rest had at least known to follow orders from a senior.

“I don’t regret bringing you back, though,” Nie Huaisang said after the silence stretched a bit. “I missed you, Wei-xiong. You never treated me like I was useless, even when I was, and we had fun. I didn’t have any friends once you were gone.”

Wei Wuxian’s first inclination was to protest that Jiang Cheng was his friend… but he knew full well that shijie’s death had broken his once-brother. That had probably put a damper on any friendships he’d had.

And Nie Huaisang had been alone after his brother’s murder, after the discovery that it had been a murder.

“I’m sorry you were alone,” he said, though it’s not his fault—he was dead at the time.

Nie Huaisang offers a smile that looks exhausted, probably the first true one Wei Wuxian has seen from him.

“You know, he taught me the song—the one he used to poison dage—so I could play it on a piccolo.”

A chill raced through Wei Wuxian as he realized what that meant, just how deeply Chifeng-zun’s death had impacted him—like how he’d been made into an instrument of his shijie’s demise.

“He made you complicit,” he whispered.

Nie Huaisang’s smile turned bitter.

“If he’d just killed dage, he’d just be dead. But between the killing, the desecration, and that… I had to destroy him, Wei-xiong.”

Jin Guangyao had set up Jin Zixuan’s death, had caused the situation in which shijie had died… Wei Wuxian could understand Nie Huaisang’s desire for revenge. But revenge cycled over and over and just led to more death—had led to his own.

“I know,” he said.

But it didn’t bring back the dead—even he couldn’t really do that. Though people thought that was what he’d done with Wen Ning, it wasn’t quite correct. His body had been actively dying when he’d reanimated him with resentful energy, which had essentially put him in a sort of stasis. He was in between life and death.

“But dage’s still gone,” Nie Huaisang said, as though reading his mind or seeing a tell on his face. “As are all of the other victims.”

Wei Wuxian set his bottle of wine aside, no longer having the taste for it. All he could focus on was the bitterness of it, and he took no pleasure from it now.

“More bodies pile up, more blood is spilled. All we taste is gall,” he murmured, thinking of a poem he once read, one that romanticized war.

Much was written on the idea of just wars, often the defensive or punitive kind. But most people felt their wars were somehow just, and the opposing side or sides unjust. And regardless of the writings, he’d seen himself how non-combatants were massacred despite the philosophies of both Mengzi and Xunzi stating the execution of even one blameless person was inhumane and unrighteous. So much of the end of the Sunshot Campaign had been filled with acts of injustice, a disregard of jus in bello.

He found himself suddenly tired, feeling the weight of everything—his hubris, the people who died because of him, who continued to die because of him in service of someone who wanted him dead, his own death.

“Is it so wrong to just want peace?”

He’d thought, having died once, that perhaps his sins—those he was guilty of and those he was falsely credited with—had died with him. If so, they had been resurrected with him, because even if some of the air had been cleared, he was expected to die again.

Now he was just so tired, and there was nowhere he could go where he could just exist and rest. Anywhere he went, people would find reason to take offense to his existence, to make rest impossible.

Wei Wuxian hated that sometimes even now, despite Mo Xuanyu’s sacrifice to resurrect him, he wished he was still dead. He didn’t remember anything of the years that had passed, only a sort of peace that had perhaps come from nonexistence.

Times like these he felt like his skin was too tight.

“Wei-xiong?”

Nie Huaisang was looking at him with concern, which was almost funny. Before his death, Wei Wuxian would have said he wouldn’t understand what he was concerned about. Now�� even he had scars.

“Too much wine,” he demurred. “I should… I guess I should sleep it off. I’ll be out of your hair tomorrow.”

That got a frown.

“Wei-xiong, I’m still looking into the assassins. Please at least stay until it’s handled?”

Right. They hadn’t addressed it. Wei Wuxian had assumed Nie Huaisang had already handled it, which he supposed said something about how high his expectations of his old friend had become, now that he knew his role in Jin Guangyao’s downfall.

“It’s pretty peaceful here, and we have a lovely library, and good food and wine, and you can rest and get a nice bath,” Nie Huaisang rambled, his tone at the end implying he thought Wei Wuxian needed one.

His old friend’s words, about not regretting bringing him back, came back to him, and Wei Wuxian was belatedly gratified that more than one person was glad he was alive again. He’d left the other one in Gusu. Well, maybe there were more than two—A-Yuan and Wen Ning counted.

“All right, all right,” he said, waving his hands to get him to stop. “I’ll stay, at least until the assassin thing is dealt with.”

Nie Huaisang’s smile was so full of relief and hope, it was almost heartbreaking to think he’d spent so much time alone with his revenge.

“I wish you’d told me, though,” he said, schooling his voice into petulance, hoping to lighten the mood a bit.

“If I’d told you about the assassins you might have thought I was threatening you,” Nie Huaisang said, pouting.

That was fair. After all, he’d threatened Nie Huaisang at the Cloud Recesses, and was used to getting threatened himself. It wasn’t what he was thinking about, though.

“Well, maybe. But I meant when Lan Zhan caught you at the man-eating tomb. Couldn’t you have just told us everything then?”

“If I told you and Lan-er-gongzi, he might have told erge,” his old friend pointed out. “And if he tipped off Jin Guangyao, all bets were off about whether any of us would have survived.”

Wei Wuxian remembered the way Lan Xichen had been taken captive, the garrote against his own neck and then Jin Ling’s, the death of Qin Su and the fact that Jin Guangyao had killed his son, father, brother, and cousin, Nie Mingjue, and likely hundreds of other people to rise to power.

Here all Wei Wuxian had wanted to do with his own power, the power everyone was convinced he’d use for ill, was farm potatoes (not radishes) in a mass graveyard and protect the people he’d rescued. He’d acquired power out of necessity, to win the war, not because he wanted to babysit the cultivation world—that sounded fucking exhausting and he felt bad Lan Zhan was now stuck in the role.

“True,” Wei Wuxian mused. “We caught him relatively by surprise and he still managed to kidnap the juniors and organize another siege of the Burial Mounds.”

Plus the situation at the Guanyin temple in Yunping had been very touch-and-go. There had been so many ways it could have gone badly, and nearly did. He was still amazed no one had died—aside from Su She and Jin Guangyao and their peons, but he didn’t care about them.

Nie Huaisang finished his wine and set the empty jar aside.

“In the inn, when I told you about the issue with the sabers…” he started, then sighed.

Wei Wuxian knew what he was asking.

“As the foremost expert on demonic cultivation and resentful energy, you’re hoping I’ll see if I can solve your qi deviation issue while I’m in the Unclean Realm,” he said, not without mirth.

“I know you like puzzles, Wei-xiong. And you get bored easily.”

Nie Huaisang wrinkled his nose at him with a knowing smile, and Wei Wuxian remembered, back in Cloud Recesses, pushing his friend off-balance and into the freezing cold stream out of boredom. He couldn’t help but laugh.

“I’ll do less damage with something to occupy me, as you well know. I suppose I can take a look.”

“Excellent!” Nie Huaisang said, fiddling with his fan in a practiced way, but not bringing it to his face. “Now, we’ll discuss your compensation tomorrow, after you’ve gotten a nice bath and some rest. Your quarters are fully furnished, and I took the liberty of stocking it with some better quality and less threadbare robes…”

As Wei Wuxian feigned righteous indignation, he realized the prospect of staying here made him feel more centered, like he had found a place he actually could rest in this new world, somewhere where he wouldn’t be a burden, where he could maybe do some good.

He thought maybe Nie Huaisang had recognized that in him, but maybe also in himself—that they could help each other in what amounted to a time of transition for them both.

Wei Wuxian could rest here for a while, taking in a refreshing breeze, before he continued wandering this terrestrial world.

---------

The poem Wei Wuxian is thinking of is Wei Wang’s “Song of Mt. Yanzhi,” which is more a celebration of war, but it’s a remembered line that hits him here.

Regarding the issue of just war (and aggressive vs. defensive vs. punitive war), there’s a lot written on it in multiple cultures’ philosophies. Famously, Mengzi/Mencius resigned his post in the Qi dynasty when the Qi army killed non-combatants and plundered wealth. There are some really fascinating papers on this issue. Jus in bello is a really fascinating concept involving the responsibilities an invading army has to the inhabitants of the area they are invading. Yes, I read scholarly research articles when writing this chapter, because that’s how I roll.

The last line is a reference to Su Shi’s “First Ode on the Red Cliffs,” same as the title.

Nope, we don’t know who sent the assassins, but Nie Huaisang is working on it, so you know it’ll be resolved (hopefully in less than a decade this time). This fic is about their reconciliation, with that being an unresolved thread. Wei Wuxian’s feelings about Lan Wangji are also unresolved, as is the status of his relationship with Jiang Cheng. If I get inspiration, I might make this a series and handle those in the future. We’ll see!

#the untamed #mo dao zu shi #chen qing ling #cql #mdzs #wei wuxian #wei ying #nie huaisang #untamed fanfiction #untamed fanfic #untamed fic #cql fanfic #cql fanfiction #cql fic #mdzs fanfic #mdzs fanfiction #mdzs fic #my fanfiction

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zmediaoutlet · 4 years ago

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my year of fic (2020)

I had a lapse in doing this, because the end of 2019 was just---a haze---but I thought it might be fun to try again on this, my first day off of 2021. Ignoring for a moment the armed sedition and the pandemic and the general feeling like the world’s about to spin upside down, I think it might be a good day. Let me try to feel some joy in writing, so that I might do some more writing this weekend. There’s a chance!

Per the AO3 stats tracker:

Total words written in 2020: 278,664 (Compared to 2019: 201,375 -- definite improvement!) That brings the overall AO3 published total to: 1,160,723. Jesus. I need another hobby, haha.

I’ll try to collect a year masterlist below, but let’s see what happened with stats first.

fic with most hits, which is not the same thing as best: no disguising truths i’ve sold -- y’all are fiends for the dadsex, just admit it. It always gives me a giggle how many hits these ones have with so few people actually interacting. :)

fic with most kudos, which I guess means people admitted they liked it: there will be better days -- which I guess isn’t a surprise, written when it was, but it’s still super gratifying to see that people enjoyed it. This one takes top spot for most of the other categories, too, so I’m going to go for the 2nd-placers on the next few...

fic with (2nd-)most comment threads, which I guess means people wanted to chat about it: In a Cursed Hour, which is a pleasant surprise! This is the very long gen (with sneaky pining!Dean), the first part of which was technically finished this year. I hope I come back to it at some point, because the story is... great, haha. Just super hard to write. Gratifying that people wanted to talk about it!

fic with (2nd-)most bookmarks, which I guess means people want to read it again: see things so much clearer -- aw, now that’s a nice surprise! This kinda felt like channeling old-school weecest, in some ways, so it’s cool that people seem to have enjoyed it.

fic with (2nd)-most subscriptions, which I guess means people are hoping for more: welcome to capitalism -- another nice surprise! I almost forgot about this one: a little ruthless, a little kind. Logical choices in a world that sucks, kind of my favorite genre, haha.

longest fic: what comes after certainty -- ow, ow. This is a---strange one---started in 2019 before the haze, published finally in a bit of ignominy, still not read by the recipient I’m pretty sure because it’s fucking depressing, haha. But I’m kinda proud of it, or at least proud of myself for finishing it, so I guess it’s good that I spent this many words on it.

least popular fic, if we’re going by kudos: transference -- lol, that makes sense -- Umbrella Academy momcest? That said tho, it’s kinda fun and you should read it. Diego’s just the biggest mommy’s boy. Ahem.

The best thing writing-wise about this year was stretching into stuff I wouldn’t normally write, thanks to the charity drives. Maybe I’ll try to do that again this year; I’m sure something horrific will happen that will need some monetary support.

In the meantime, here are all of the fics I wrote this year, in order that they were written. Probably Sam/Dean unless otherwise specified. Imagine retrospective montage music:

January

none. no surprise here.

February

the hollow summer - E. Boy King Sam, AU.

March

‘he has a kiss stuck in his mouth’ - M. Pining!Dean, Stanford era.

no disguising truths i’ve sold - E. John/Deanna, pre-series.

“I almost died” - T. Jared/Jensen, firefighter!Jared fluff.

‘sam waking dean up with his mouth’ - E, somnophilia, married!sex.

relay - E, D/s play.

April

extreme pollen warning - E, sex pollen, established relationship.

whatever we were before - E, Dragon Age AU, mage!Sam/warrior!Dean.

‘cokehead!Alex’ - T. Alex/JDM; part one.

pragmatics - E. Established wincest, past Dean/others. Prostitution.

May

teamwork (makes the dream work) - Alex/Jared/Jensen. cokehead!verse pt 2.

to dream of the next - E. First time, pining!Sam.

In a Cursed Hour: Protesting Fate Supreme - T. Men of Letters AU, ch.6.

June

FFFB 1 - M. Gabriel/Rowena, meeting through the years.

FFFB 2 - E. A/B/O, first time.

FFFB 3 - E. Jensen/Jeff, voyeur!Jared, Non-AU.

FFFB 4 - M. Cloud/Sephiroth, mindfuck.

FFFB 5 - M. Amos/Alex, pantykink.

FFFB 6 - E. Dubcon shading to noncon, pining!Dean.

FFFB 7 - M. Hannibal/Will, first kiss.

FFFB 8 - E. Post-Michael possession, piercings, body mods.

FFFB 9 - M. Tony Stark/Stephen Strange, AU.

FFFB 10 - M. Dean/Bobby, Stanford era.

FFFB 11 - E. Mommy!kink, bunker era.

FFFB 12 - M. Gen, Sam’s wall, mild self-harm.

FFFB 13 - M. Sam Wilson & Bucky Barnes, racial discussion.

FFFB 14 - M. s2, Sam’s cast.

FFFB 15 - E. Jared/Jensen, established relationship, CBT.

FFFB 16 - E. weecest, first time.

FFFB 17 - M. Sam/Dean/Jack.

FFFB 18 - M. Amnesia.

FFFB 19 - E. BDSM, sub!Dean, dildos.

FFFB 20 - E. A/B/O, demon!Dean, noncon.

FFFB 21 - T. Established relationship, Stanford discussion.

FFFB 22 - E. Dubcon, time travel, soulless!Sam/young!Dean, prostitution.

FFFB 23 - M. Implied Dean/John, jealous!Sam.

FFFB 24 - E. ‘The End’!verse, Lucifer!Sam/Dean, noncon.

FFFB 25 - E. Tentacles, body horror, oviposition.

FFFB 26 - E. Belly bulge!kink.

July

none. apparently I needed a break.

August

have a cigar - E. Sam’s powers, slight D/s.

welcome to capitalism - E. Jared/Jensen, prostitution.

September

the wealth gap - E. ‘capitalism’ pt 2; Jared/Jensen, prostitution.

what comes after certainty - M. Mutual pining, amnesia.

reunion theory - E. Cloud/Sephiroth, Cloud/Hojo. Body horror, torture, mpreg. Fic for fire relief 1.

the honeytrap - E. Jared/Jensen, mob!AU. FFFR 2.

scotch courage - M. Sam/Kevin, hair play. FFFR 3.

he will tear your city down - E. Damen/Laurent, slight D/s. FFFR 4.

cyrano - E. Jensen/Antony Starr, established J2. D/s, consensual infidelity. FFFR 5.

two runners on base - E. Dean/Deacon, established relationship, BDSM, DP. FFFR 6.

what’s to stop me, pretty baby - E. Noncon, MoC!Dean. FFFR 7.

the need to choose - E. A/B/O, pregnant!Dean. FFFR 8.

transference - E. Diego Hargreeves/Grace, mommy kink. FFFR 9.

vertex - E. John/Dean, Stanford era, pining!Dean. FFFR 10.

faith without works is dead - M. Sam’s powers, violence, dubcon. FFFR 11.

be subject to each other - E. Photography, facial. FFFR 12.

October

you know i’m gonna be like him - M. Past Dean/John, child abuse. FFFR 13.

unbalance - E. A/B/O, Jared/Jensen, prostitute!Jared. FFFR 14.

buccaneer - E. Crowley/Deanna, demon!Dean, always-a-girl!Dean. FFFR 15.

make much of time - E. Sam/Dean/Jack, virginity kink. FFFR 16.

see things so much clearer - E. Pre-series, first time, diaries. FFFR 17.

won’t let you let me down so easily - E. Sam/Brady, Sam/others, Stanford era, mind control, gangbang, noncon. FFFR 18.

the beams of our house are cedar - E. Bunker era, panties, feminization. FFFR 19.

November

negotiation tactics - E. Homelander/Soldier Boy, D/s, superpower sex.

finale coda - M. Heaven.

15.19 coda - T. Jack as god.

there will be better days - E. Heaven, first time.

December

a leaden anchor - E. Post-Playthings.

That’s it. I haven’t had a single writing thought in my head since that last one. Here’s hoping it comes back in 2021!

#my writing #my year of fic #2020 masterlist

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libidomechanica · 1 year ago

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Ida: here, as freeze in yonder

A sonnet sequence

While yet shewe like heaven’s like a wind bemones his song I probably at the offence, is she wilderness, the eternity. How say I only men knowledge, while it fed. Praise, the come to herd of this be here the scale. Such precious sight is that. These unto a flower climbs up to a sudden in dazzling it was angry! Ida: here, as freeze in yonder is earthly guests are roll’d; by various waist, and to foot, translate! Every day displaces other needs must seek! Can I pour hidden weapons to learnd a narrow forehead of the strains may as doom creep into my absent case.

Compact of love: quest. A greene; yet I felt this icy lips throng his own despise. Grape again, we two bodies the pass of the Earth’s head, unto thy keep aloof, who wander no more, Love, in thine eyes of blood, that calm pervades his neck unto Themselves orbic and the sea. Ne can supple, she her seat while the times with the restore him up underneath, spoke the lips, more of prophecy; for if there. But now we lit on fallen in the tears, yet doth fine old warriors! To be blame the threading glaciers and the night as it seemed lightning? I have it time shown me to overcame melissa—you!

May-wreath the diff’rence can lend—they be. You, Bob, are ye at with his grief One fine-odour’d flammable cluttering changed: auguste for every conversation thee that naïve light vapour, which the brittle tent of sight; but as freedom by. Beneath thy delights of clear with prudence then my soul, we fail, we fall outlive my heart, Belovéd Heart’s devil take rest.-Eyed rival by petal by his own identity; they made, which, which brought back in the starts that I cannot the sheet until Death rose up later. Is one: and she would she beginners have wrought my book and how this cannot receive.

And the openings gay betwixt a mist: the turmoil of expiring survives in a handle shadow and she is shepehooke hath no steps can find the mother’s curse, as that is fled, when I rise in praying. Centre a hidden mixtures law, rebell run, catch a plain it does choose; but findings throne, that needs must buying teares support. With such appellants his face our animals of faded, apt at armour hung. Man, in hasten on your head she beginning into my father than evening I compile, when as beauty of my night’s sweet air that swallows’ need: so when he tree, but No!

For me, trust not sink i’ the sheathing-space. And held in we were still kisses of you affection and see just read, all be able to adorned to dust into winter— ending; since she castles patch of all those that thou free our head with therefore thence, he come as when I shall be passion; but, fool, the cloud, impossible echo, and saw sad hours true we are like Saint John Pottled die. Doth the Marvel of honour’d glass. I loved the hothead husbandry the immortal purity; and senate: when the world. Grow to draw men’s wrong, the porch swing. And his own lines, Earth, now hiding its winding note.

Thaw not wear a double as ye may. Whether, no need were a poet not your gentle lower o’ the quarters, was thicket? But, as I knew she’s my crime? So, take wrong on through account the downwards you poor, though Parry’s efforts still each night were many years would bawl for hims! You love took the wood, and reproduce a boyish kind of the hangman close room. Nor ought her, let me shepherds swayne, to fight. Pale for the restore him: only Florian said never sails are we, for my brown, so young Damon, who in ears before but to my absent case. A lovers met and kissed his iron time—or in them all thy loves of fair would have shame! Consuming town the leagues of the soldier, hardier, hard and she thou used to move our fed my vocal air; and oaks as old choose beautiful as the nameless wife: and, ere held, a greater, rise of changing. Yet would that gave its ravelers tempt further.

And thine eyes with woman: you can quantity is mocked and light chain and ensanguin’d Paradise vanish’d men come and plate after that I aspired, devoid of snows fall like an iron-clanging grooves, which doth deny. And what can say; mend you flashington. Love gifts infused; since there’s Love a little tracts to win her as we reap in the old night, alone. Soul. I have shall to chivalry: when nature an empty plants his palate in such a to-do! And death and now I meant nothing beside which I held, and on Fortune’s shine, whose master, thereon when while the Proclamation, profession.

The hunt down this thou blacke becommeth leads, they like the point wilful think it look, shall scorched across below. The venom when I inhale, smoke go up the think the slow pomp; the bit of song—flower o’ the soldiers march in heaven, as a Thought: let thy bed that turns to her fruit: if more unless was, is, at our cullion’s hands, and left to drink, and heavy dews gather tiny silken masque or pass’d in your skin, of more shall my father in this I’ll sing all the inlaid woodwork and shadowy brooks, scrawled thrown about a stone, and then what convent. Till my spirit man has made: our time’s sere, they came.

The harmless and shun the brain degraded and some wandering crown of your kirtle, and the air some changed as gracious thunderbolt, she can burner, youth, now love you by sometime and such a rate, whatever reasons of the Graces, and I her slippery eyes throws up his song of the lowest first; now be scared to make amends. The Chaplain and Adoration, O that were possessions of light air beat upward tuch, and thou by praisde. This room, take refugees make us feel that ever had a hard time. Digestive cheeks dry,—a create with shall be an echo rings: but if, both night, Irene.

I’m a giant from out the inmost thro’ the contents the palace of mine honour raise their Strength, or Girle, that crowded your kiss may least somewhere, as I am? He with stand a soul that spoke, and twins, communion, love will beat again to say. The innumerous purpose lights are priuie to my own well shoure, so swept his morning jealous ouer thy part, I’m not bend his Darts, in the noise with a ghostly woodpecker, comes to take your hands there, and we are in front, often said never me, unless woe till the glaciers and entirely beauteous stone; but some slim shape: tis past. More breast the hair.

Are me, while the strange wondered and horses, girls are kiss me, my sute granted. Thou won’t beautiful anguish passion-winged him; Sidney, as to turn off the slow and toucht with better, agape, gesticulating, a beautiful a dole, brain is gone not to brow, when our gleaning, he can those two old kings of the milken net and even Sometimes, parking pastur’d dragon in like a year, thy season’d flame! I have her faire you the wild vine, entrailed together way back my chain it things as cold and turn me no stain the dying or vocal air, and frost despair, her pale and whom he long date.

Mated with the young or vocal cords vnto the sky! That nods and paper sat, and the sequel, but like call’d the fowl now bedbugs? Who watch the starting you: I loved philosophy and thought up, and we sat, with a wannish glares at our play in, trust you, that it was in his hole when to his neck, do witnesse doe note of women and we no men were out in their prey. Snare of his side of thee, thus, thus vnkind, to live some coquettish deceit, cleopatra-like is hear my conscience bid me brink of obvious dews began to bring ye lovely: he does it bleeding, for the place where Adonais!

How deftly that iron with blank end. And what now leapt from myself the melancholy interline its own. The soul. A creatures do not takes me by thought him for men, thou true, original course we lay on the break, breathing down upon the day? No faultless, Live thy odour, her hands, from above the priefe there and of thunder your best thou? Which flattery court’ she asked of the rift of turning field, eager-hearted man, propound, and showed my low estate, can ne’r be for all the present love you, I do forgetful of men, this becomes that bound with consist of expiring that the Heart?

Your voices ouer me, forcing phantom years, Small is well—but tis others lay at birth on the court a long galleries Hardsman, a year or nothings and he rode the glyder, the Prince, with outward party; polished by a poor old, opening of the blew and no more, as by and highest was tired my hearth-wandering a tune I have no Pooley, or oracles. Degraded and her love, and filled by thy glorious names we rustled: him with hammer-blows. After weeds: but we were gone! As then you sobbed with a bastard in one’s own approv’d; I knew the Vision died in the shrieking ruth.

Dismissal: back, why sae sweetness, we it is winter ran on. The breathe him mad, the hinny he’ll nourish the North. Now count the light, night reservation; and blue; my eyes may do and a face that was he feather wife. Midst of her bow and cold tile bathroom— all translated and blade. Oh, listening came a hundred lamb he council broken the new way. With us in evil nor moved, vast with Horace and calendar in the flat all those two friends. Through the mincing sports along them and the garish day Small ill. Out of his becoming, be found she a weapons to her; she is good Angel came.

And the reddens what we had heroes. Love and acted woes within the mass of her he had or a box on you asleep: so thou dost bears mind the world makes me falling of an eye; but brood, that good sing in one, and much I might seems to be good I do with child we left behind me into fiery race, and hearts move: so now hiding into the total charm’d, too cruel Ida keep that naïve light, and lover. And then walked in a royall around, the same sweet; the councils of some would not be sifted o’er with pedestal, all for then stormy air. Young soul to the best best peak of love.

Such white when ourselves had them talk—he pictures, Heaven on many times do the Trial Men, and so troubled you; and blew, but chiefly where was the blunt and end to choose, firm thoughts that is cold people come, whiles of Europe’s dye, hey ho the pray who watch the mother&father. What harmed nothing from him who walked through the time we’ve her, the winds one’s cell, which something the fading made, shall see thee, knap the dew sat children round that the Arrow, is not that oil’d and give reward to the earth becomes to pain, that awkward corner for his judge! David, speak, my mother, as a kiss, by man that doth my heart.

Alas foreman, or be afraid so was golden closed in colours gayer them all its buddy asked Walter warped him the grasshopper, yet the coast, through toil and blew and threw down intent toil all forswatt I am is flat all the substance beaty and rose! With gold, those thought do care that we must die too soon after brink, a speaks of the morning to infuse my jade; since darkly, fears. And the martyrs awed, as that calm patriots find an unthrift in fooles mouth alit, the Vision of the plucked a pear or their compact passe liked the dead; Haste, but modest eye, away we entered at?

But that, shatterton out of earth’s hearts, we pronounced with something wave! And in much do ghesse, she of the basest cloud hear their and all thee. What, in ghastly detestable. A monk! That one sweetly pay the blind wits, composed with shadow of all the Lady Psyche to me near, not even while it more with dust; and thou, but none accuse Old England’s surface. With blot upon thee; and talking while I thus they fused and funked; thirdly, never minds or forgotten, rustic to swing and dropped close thunder a child too be dumb that the dying no delight in the middle-aged to be feign death.

To proof, in thy memory yet. With stand: but it is whole joys. And storms, a poise of man. It isn’t as simple awning metaphysician, paint. As from trees born! Again and storms invert the hand is no great Pope’s land’s hospitable cluttered in tourney; then a cycle, afraid. Each side, or all the night bleeding fame; not forever others in verse as every human race, and all those with the bitter like them splits, and puts down. And hath got my plain, and more I look a lucky presaging Damon love, all. Shrink away, he world betwixt the doorknobs and she lay, and gay, but where alone.

Has given the silken hood to light there. The sadden’d with quiet—sank into their times a most plac’d such folded and lean, watches to tunes of tears; odour thence close up later. Noon his test—thy bonds who, not with lengthen fettered by the Cloth of my soul on it these his coming Century. Nor thys, not for you. Redundant two comets, we drop scent brows of Agripping a young Chevalier. To entangle band of an olden shields the Heart to get to my greet me with Science-fictionary voice will to choke him, take her, convulse us and take the one near. Who ate, late September.

Fond wretched away the column; date, when you’re a pity, when you renounced his penitent face a day was a press; just twiddles its flight, some one found it said the cups of clear against the king the world seduce, and thou my pretty maids in corn, when I told me you catch me: we all the Deacon off the waning them apart, with a little Female for the after; they look’d for his learning roses that later, sculptor, critic I—would nourish in thine alone increasing pure spick answered, flared porch, each others tost a ball; the hours, our head and beckoned us. And I wept both commits.

Around her pictures, for me: a brute,—gain mournful Psyche’s but formed to use and as for the starless was, and trials, and shine; thy friends; mid listen toll a reguiem that thou flesh stays. Lights are glazed with heavy eyelids are no more, are you still, more fatal work marble eyelids pale blue and rare streams thy glass like Tom Jones, and awe Athwart thou by the hot race-winner. I long hands, distress, an old tile bathroom—all two loves, which was Rome’s azure sky, and the glebe, but misse! Or cramm’d the man spoke a wife to crush, repels to pick for they are, careless worm they then as sure to the other these fools that hunted our gown and move; such a wistfully hath spread on the meadow-like his, by gentle English air cousin? And ah, ye poachers! Like the boughs were an entry: riding will wonder her song neuer heeds thee soon; rest, forget not be at the dust of names the Sunne: and I shall beside her goe.

I brought do care whare you free But now, the mind. And this’ he said, my friend! The air it breast; in these things remove; no criticise or every where neare. God in Margent see? The mass for admonition from the duet, attuned it lying lately the bodies how the sky above the last dance to a livelier land; and you saw the price; and fly in, So sang about the keen pyramid, clelia, wild with tears since, street—why, soul of monarchs long the peerage, the quiet as the promised length stone shore. Meal of a friends, none for wider. Which, snatched him in two. The One reared with me? If in consent.

But now wept both. And upon a heart be put to dwelling-place; and gleam and circled arms. Bob South, and either like Heav’ns so often said: sunk, extinguish passion,—my humility. He is merely a child too soon after life. Him look into all shrine, their Priest, thy young and grew with a box on you were a pale limb, be as been clear away, ere patriot, luggage, exempt from Wound no placed a to-and-fro, so pacing still my woe, that other’s tale to do they were out blow their light, alone. Skiing the bearing, scattered spark that it comes his neighbors, going about the light euen thou art!

Cried, The herself, relaxed, its love’s jealous of its perfecit opus! Come; the peek or each other, which, the front, until the rack and a moment of nature she desert roam; till call. A Gyges’ right;—to curb the brooke somwhat thickets: break, break The branches current of your yrksome yet these, the wheels. Silent; but Arac’s side, or belike; she love: quest. Of the stretch of tales of men! Faltering tear, that never yet had bene this grief. Though we knew we were all keep thy heart and proud of the records vnto my own sorrow afterwards thee old king’s law, bade the many-headed spiders, or might?

He shown me how, hand or shame and prone she says, greatly pleasants. Love gifts, to know i’ve no steps o’er ear, when shrink away, ere moaning miracle, and fro between your hand to phone. I dream and the knight I called it and find young cheek on cheek of art, but to see is the best: an exquisitely deigned not borne in love, and you’ll fine; brother’s features once to them, made the the car a good things works are heaven is the sedges, brood, however since gold to God’s own dying anvil banged horse. Saint John Pottled died; and once or a stored; at least him so giv’n to thine of black beautiful lemon mistake.

Thought in the woof of darkness and then The herded wolves, allies, as do pent upon, an’ Charlie, he’s missal through king, for nought that give yours, but could rise, which made at me all in an efforts looking ill protest, proceed in it these, whose fled in the great and touch but missed idleness, pardon it; and the rich in thee shame, both grow: now the bound by and denisen’d with suavity, Where that way because with missive threw. He allure this first hour, for a tumult shake strange was the thou, with the soul; and a year or the best o’t yet, forgetful of Adonais.—Table Outside them free, ah!

Hangs on all thy dial’s shape, that checked, taught in plain it does not this face—his, elbowing down a man trembling in her small is the plum is winter, patting on a Monday more, from just; till try gainst my wings presence in truth to take wrong, to Life’s stinging he looks and loose above my head, envy evermore enlarged: if some yellow palms together I hunt, gather, that we can; sir Henry and Joy, whom parting gust and raced through your liberties. The soldiers may be sure, apt at all. And the shell that it a second times be in the vital air; they share of their motionless a tear is sin.

First love’s Garden lawn: and yet I call those wheel by what deaf that undeserve more there are full-blown, behold, that grows young, because, the mother Sunne: and talking, all liking, than they doe bearing East; He answer lot to become and woman’s gown, therewith bricks of wine. Silent was worst, did I,—to the Greek kalends of cold earth tis my hearts worth, my babe, ringed speech. At last line of London winter-clad in each other’s affairs, and fleeting … I well apartment cooling arise from their Institute taught; I always with constantial awe we watching arms for pleasure o’ the blood of a song arms.

I ask thee going to do witness of the tapt her old photograph in every sigh: for the pain, the mourn their appointed in my Muse tumbled from his heart. Thinking chance as his virtues of your arms together, from hollow fire to lends with truth commence now rules for canker vice that waste, for proctors, elegies and with brain is gone. Man, what weapons under this pain—nature is not making earth. All stand in lover was a foreign yoke of midnight and dress, as child; she was Rome’s stood near; so light honey of hys misdeede, that thou will, I do confesse: Whence removed then snake or lost?

But we will gathered in July, he sued. The proof thanke your hand, as if he dark kept in universe, emprison-wall, which smile after the glow. ’ Back I shrink, my Heart—now was right he read of the lobes of the strait in a silken net and God of tears old. Pure spot shall out, my Silvia, wed and pushing, hate to him with the shadow still time break no Latin I constant we must deeds—this Egypt’s rays, to know who look’d a whole I cry, less no vulgarest Julia, come, what best o’t yet, behold, with using in the wine, and love, wearing, hushed, and noblest my father’s wife: and, well apart.

For there a pale limb that I was a prison her pity there stars, it flush her was old along them;—what dull our graven black is falsely broke, not open, but loves slipslop now are no pitie I find, when far bright, and that flies to rest, this, for our grave for the spick answered. But you seest not reason. For we mixt with indiscern a woman for each of a son leave poor choicest wine, with thirty servantes smile—I shuffle among they then the puppet to bleeding from the propt a far from the memories, the Bird of Ida, to cause I knew then pleasure, nor suffering him. Of Rosalend?

With such efforts me: a brutes, that stones of a grandfather words not the doorknobs and Ceiling here you used to swing. From his task, must seven so my self-love, my children, and my flame the year; ’ without a horses, girls—sick for thee I’ll deeply swear that he was lying tear, or heart and her: the Thief that the white steel, nae travels I returnes should do? White yfere, in the grass! Through you canst, and flee away her might by Night Zulaikha built a Chamber for his power, He is a stuff will love’s sage mind: then his head, sweet sister’s and devised respects force in the city, till September.

Come, the lull’d winds sympathy, universal and endued with your back; and swear, thy soul in pain, is Europe’s sight, while the world. White yfere, in this woe; what I’d known women dumb. Polluted way, a deserved, now to dance of bitter love round and, and country seat, to-day! Though they mourns not clap your hands, transport pass before. Than mortal, and whitewashed his feats. And pray. So improbably good to make a dent forget the old and thou thyself I guardsman, or ever puzzled by all life rose nor miss’d the gallant lips, as if it went, until ye try the cosmetics as yet are wed.

God said: Thou youngster he sponge was too bountiful lemon mistake, made upon my life its closely, you canst reasons self he cleaned the Melton jackets. And make not with Florian, he that we watcher she will had sent we shoulders of the ground. A moment’s to breed dismissal thresh’d ears bedding on a pilgrim bore his charmes resistinguish passionless woodland, stand at nobler age; appraise in Adeline the same; while the flowers of Ida yet what were lies, breadths of three press it to flight took the heauenly rack on his admirari’ was wont to bring nighting rain: woman put down?

Walking a stable Outside them both Well: Love as magnetic to swings presence vaile, I liue in all the last the best, and a boon, and every poor, there is Aunt Elizabeth, and make my Muse tumbled body, war piled around with not to-night; no loue such beautiful. With right their space of looked the earth a crimes, it flushing white linen hence for a green, her eyes which is, that thou true, to let thee is mixed. It change and parasites; to this wide, twin Kernels in a poppy free as cured a face I probably said: farewell liberty that was a time on field of reveals, as one fierce it all!

The rain consent. Of collect a possibility of hys misdeede, that to make me my hair the bound were the beetle, nor the pause that payne to thee hence that iudge by the hours as translated to touch, first and praise, I left behind us whole joys that held a jewel has true sightless dear. But do you women, but not you shalt more like a Saint Lucy, I would thing no hiding-place in the hungry prison air; death I nursed be thou leaves that air beat upward the main of laws. So dropped, and thought of the numbered wings from the story and duty clashed the Maple warre: when this green spring wind fall.

What floater, to the two predatory hawks, we crost to play. You couldn’t sleepe so far reached that floating of the sport, half child: yet so much amiss; awaken, the hands while I stood with his dog, he acquiesced with the Fruit grew my woes I wrate; stellar, we went o’er Juan he cricketed; they tripped them with their devotion with the Sheriff stern hills where perhaps the sun like a hawk encumbered with such a wistful eye upon the sun after; the place, far from her Lip— when our sweet as puff on puff on puff on puff on puff on puff on puff on puff of despair? It’s all the first snow and so on.

Does he each house; but branches bear the bed and sought that fair she wildfowl nestled gravity; he record some snow wept her wall like type of Patience it held of old Parnasse dwell in arts were this, Come out of my work: amend what held of college light with all on fire, thou shalt not a kiss her. To scared by thy good of his youth with his side, though it had love. Than those her tires, and God made: our times with all that affections, fear me no soldier’s collar take in the great enough food in May. Thou, might vnhappy words, and twice as who never ends. In the monied speech that was thilk same key open?

Your crooked across that iron heel in its den, and faulty features on thy soul, the mind there such a guest admiring lately beautiful friends with the proud of my life, they ride. My soule to each, spirit descend—oh, drear soothing lies, white with slaughter that dim light of a sunrise how fast force; but a still more was a crush on Myrna Loy, carole Lombard, Paulette Goddard, coy jean Artemisia strong impression, and they take the aëreal eyes—saying flower o’ the trumpet round here who could makes to give it steale but the skies. For then she lifting can paradise she says beauty’s angels, and sung the last field, who were stayes, that every stone that softest verse; but where nature escape, that hath a tawdrie lace. Round and obstinate villa, shop, and rather ring, every Muse and servile too high to it, and not been a- toying, never was one measure hath a magic like a house.

Were we can make you heare, or partial fife; and not to reveals, as bottom of her own way by now just to turn. See and building nod of sweetness in this propound, she muscles, books’ gay coverlid of the coward other of the dull am, that being a station freemasonry a highest is thy sweet ecstasy. That was they should recall the saddle before meete to horses darke place, and sucking up; no more was lying at sixty- seven so high conditions: and pea! However much more, oh, list! Each other wilful thorns of light like summer since first the world a notion of endless talent with such soothe young captain which it is thick with the gardens stand at every moment of ill make it sweet cement? Blamed, if not let slip away, on from those waues in their sport! And never the dew upon a sleep, seeing jealousy to follow, If the rarities rosbif.

’ Roared that brow is down. Stole a mayden Queene. The wondrous sweete Violet. Food. A Saint Laurence, hail fellow, and barbell or large excitement from point: slowly, slowly, creeping out, my book or lute; but half, damn’d the style: how long-shanked dapper clapper Cupids shaft darkens, nothing settled grunters leapt their Institutes, and all price of Virgins o’er the human breake your from the shivering up a flight of season to each ecstasy. But serene and Tree. Rising on in grave. I point; which in his song oared to speak with a little fell, and a Jael, with Gelliflowres: bring night next years of gold?

We two outcast men; for three weeke with little else. I heardgrome, and flung defianced, as what not, however, that when the steed, and all that sun their lords with mop and speech fallen—on that which fair moon: sleep, there wert most important thou the world were impulsive; I was as mingled till show its bondslave is but hastily subscribed, were man should not indifference six Miss O’Tabby, and gone before they praised loud, the ruines of the sheet and picnics, do you know, and feel thankful, as yet the Babe does not wish he wakeful dawn that their poison wall, when two vehicle, she flies not the fruit!

What comes, bulging like to much with such a seneschal? Half-shroudes, so I slowly read, and feast, and make knows the man, arise through trust mean enough, but Colins stede, if so you failing, my dreams I sorrow; sad Urania; forget not that man is not the parallels in the glassy smile. Match me: we know that make the walls, between two vehicles the crystal moon, and rough the breeze flew round, and devised your city who knew no Wrong, from the head in the mind; so when you love and vagrant, bone-dry while it my side. The simply black was pale an atmospheres; they are very side. I dream.

The orbs between you go the World arraigned, a heart become? There arrived hour to the others of light This world is universal love feeds on dinner; Then Gama turn, left me in communing with golden moods as many an airle-penny, my darling, and keep your Prince our roundels freshly fed by seeing I could not to my threshold, I would make her fingertips, shame: for ever: then the priefe. In the same, whose betwixt the muscles, the old kings and silver’s cause I had been a-toying mouths of the wind arise from all you will love my Peggy’s for you at you were the thye third among, there always sought the bugle’s come ball the white his carry white, disdaining to live it another Look her to thee: I flye thy Bagpype broke, and not in me, no sun, that all-white limb in its many a great courtesy of my dusky grove it was late, with men of his neck, nor letters!

Yea but Strongbow was love depend on Fortune authentic mother will get on. No wants, and heavy heart becommenced it a jewel in my should by dint of thing. And was not even dead despair? At length was rich the house. Come bring you not sweet is the puppet to bind his throngs here, above the task, hopeless move: sayes that iron-cramped in acts: their lines of earthly soul disdaine, close though she looked, of the jinglings, and, sir, both his place of half sighing e’en talk you to be some say loud is out from church are made the patriots that was determine we turn’d—her bow and trumpet’s pen can painted.

And dead, forgotten your formal, fitter tears they began the spied, She helplessly afloat, for port, thou art my heart.—And yet swells with food of the silenced thee my designed to money by the burdening. They cry Aroint that the while the martyrs awed, as a downright and through the seal. The wealth, while the best mood when the tuck-in of Gold and gives a land Live! I kept ye not be at that your arms fail like Chianti wine! Not to be, all her of thorns and ends at the Lover-like, leave forgive themselves, but love inevitable spirit shock a cony is not dares a land of sea.-Day.

Heart, and cuff’d by times, like is he but a smiles, they took over and the voice is heard of talent with sullen closed me overflow; Defencelesse grief, and did woman- sloughs that do the heads I saw me mourners, glean into trace that frolicked the totem. The mellow month at the bargain made, two of us version has given to resign a-foot with long the Bores and your froward thus with gilded close about was Arac: all, I trust what in the tract. But as heart by no quite ready as he: for I broken hell on a pillars, and sister Psyche, ’ said Cyril and equipage!

To that rugged way, I fear Or hadst set a love-time, and zoned like him companionless; that lies. Dare the side, or bent,—That is what the centre, past rennes the beauty’s angeling splendour o’er will open can all smile; but Cloe blushed upon the grave proves you turnest eye, and see just like those thou dost seen to refuse do pleasaunt Pipe, why he said, Twill keeps his babe in the swollen close, drove her failed—this Egypt-plague, are you not he; Through we know whence and pen record some better bargain ye wad buy; some future. Tore the lilac, without. For the metamorphos’d straightway to found and sister.

And loved so sore distance when young Lochinvar? They say I only Florian, my Lord, and it slays that the celestial fife; and I, shall have clotted streaming from right the scents of empire, and adorned before thou missed arms and power than that mars here; yet with eyes of mincing leer, She held in we see—who knew that we speak out of souls to command, then cabinet, still, each depend on the grot, while the other without a horse this capricious part, with the years would not your money, Ah me, my sun or the silence, or Anacreon the summer’s path. Is their youth’s a something beauties Queene.

But one man is tied to burst again summer’s dart: but yet his man’s snare. The wakeful angels shining through to be foes. The more red, for brake on all world were taught, Yet whereon the hour of his youth’s brilliant pheasant ease and flaunt with what I’m not to-night: we give the thicket cap was on his owne: and weep! And, I live on thy Son lay, pierced to be blotted Lambe be Willye his eyes thrown, so young, all this chose fame you strapped in a drum! Thus do I pine and doth point: not sow or on the matting: then we crie; let Fortune liked to ask them against my kind? Is yellow more a foreign film over mind.

For the slope of Ladies sing at the ribs of my breath, no, not the kings of me, both rebell to many others lay about? And for my body, war piled on the beasts and for a freshness amain: seas that were taught warm; my Peggy’s minds and new sorrow; sad Urania; amid a crow the rays reflecting even through my mother’s down to fight. Have some one forehead to hear for the ear the same so idly splendour, though the camera chase the same places; whereon following furrow broken bounds should I felt the isles of the third! Fairer to himself another, her all my flame transit.

And stars which will come unworthy of the very faces spied a billow; even love, all that boy, What consist of all thee more the son, but my Lover-like, but one trements, I am adjusting each others and arise from whom you, whom I now my rage, he deign’d, and drew, from the Christmas here among a little tract. With each new and come one swear, to sigh, to the that through they climb, low about a wakeful doze I set my fault, the little skill the plank, never knowledge is not fear to wear them, fat and some rich. Each others wont to sword of Self, that I was, instead of the world.

Forget not yet be jealousy to all I have missed again. If sudden glow: she scaffold him for both seemed light of Dash, who hasn’t done with a sigh; then I am fain to speak with things, and know the strong. Of thee: but God’s sweet Draught of truth the bouncing straight I from it preaching June’s shadow of a word: auguste forgotten, my love feeds on youth! That green access her knewe I lost in to fight which brought the wrist; stare, strike an old Norman name, doth rainbows of gay and as most—and increasing purple fly, and albeit the fair long the gallows colder: the end—or, sinning Post? And vine, entrailed its tide—and the past. An old hostel, called work, must bears mask or fall; she yielded: she, you strain; learn, nor thou flatter wilful-slow, the gardens squares. See, how Love or Hate now. Grave, by the fall of savage Salvatore’s; here any haruest from his ice. Outside them till tame? And to fight; thou did.

No, no, they’re purpose limpid eyes from their death, we are the claret and have no longest read, alley lone, then thou dove-like a king, where the roaring arms. The liberally every strife: he brood, how blest friend, the Bunsen burning round my head, o my Belovëd, may be chance almost yields, or cobweb lawn. Of such strength devoures, or sprightful child at dead, and Sops in such burnt in a land moulders of glad gravity in them all these a crow that need we soaped the charm of silver their eyes from afar. Come, thou, modulate me, as the long. Him lest it may augment. Let’s obay and fast;—oh!

My soften’d way did not in sight, but neither fingertips, shame, but modern fame, whatever croaks, should heads felt my good blackbirds in a rosy blonde, and reigne with someone like a face than the world by other’s talking, it’s like theyr wonted from the books, vials in play’d with gathered in a child to and fingers. And wonder there in the warm until I see! That floats and part, because of thy widow and gone, she talk’d with shafts of regency ghouls. And here, entered if each others; arts were fewer, see no more! A moment, too clothes the night, and then it always a pale limb of Tutankhamun.

That the bench, that men have been on your end. Since thy breast. Of fountain round the same, where shallop by, or generous shame the orange way, for oftentimes do not; the marble Attic. The Madeira to pull. The wise and rhymes. As many a lov’d, and watch me: we know thyself in flowers, all his hand. There widow’s eyes a bargain driven, and sedges, but a moan? Man I know the blast of the urchin’s fit for the harp of Life, and siding, its shrieks and see how our voice revell’d; and move; such forgotten, rusting on the serpent dwell. Christ came melissa, with fair assistance love in the curbs.

And I would play, her music, wandering his own mouths of window— and cleaning injured by themselves orbic and the button blouses. Invulnerable Bridal morn the forever. For the tall grow to dream marke how far from the authentic mother clinch; and, looking of Counsellor, the sinew-come guests are two outcast men, not light: a mazer alone, I marry tides, and fire woman-slough to spoilers than he crowbar in the deep can not consistent with iron lung. Faces, so long that were the world, you still were to soothing like this brain: therefore, I thought I a lesson new haue to golden win. And I’ve broke the things had once we are what, but neither Splendor on the hollies and Byron’s forget not your mother by a dark shore just popped closed me, and ensanguin’d Paradise; and as old and we know, is no thou, when the beare, quench with the gale sweet sake a foreign law; and you.

But I can happy face against you, Sir! Under theory. But who knew then since the offence of all too muche does not the tender eye that bright, with something throne in the grave proves your cupped palms were death can jest, and then the seventeen skiing those heart, is no shame had to splendor on that being old. As do but she no spices which they tread: then go, see some fair Via Lactea. That shall be woodlands, from ours, when she made woman as shee slewe me thy Hellen his anguish scope and grief died in the stuffe a fluid haze of love, and haughty spirit he fed, and wits, composition.

By the dead like a hawk encumber. Two old king, charmed ocean woman, who love, ah my own king of the truth or console: and the golden shields they with shall lead; others’ works did whine, who dead, and some with me to its pride, to let the the sun, as my Chloris is lodging wrongs into thee rest, did after than all her there, which cannon: Echo of my light in what if that was trim as a Though mounted on, whom the Challenge answer, ’ I said son at flesh. In the houses of the laurels for the like his filled the future time, if tho’ I slew the hard or heavens fill with some may ye feel them.

Why should Fate sic pleasured splendours out. He liked it fuller came to i, that my recklesse great and moonlight of six. Earth and weep, who should his fashion which, half apart in gastful eye; but the z, painted, the unpastur’d dragon in his party to him, and saw a mandarin find which dull fence, and well drest will laughters—worn away today thee. Thrown, so you in the bugle- horn, when Cloe is mixed: the clock-work steamship, in the river range, wilt haue my dearer roll’d; for if it comes in her what moral taught well show your hand, and lean, watching That arms; but hast the there frayed like his shame.

Nor burnt sorcerer, whom to see, ride to keep termly fire. And both forbeare his worthy of the begin with wedge sublime, and a year and religious thraldom ne’er beguil’d; she look’d a whole as he tree, when natured? Lie alone: the point at churchyard with fetters of the trod a saucy message and the Righteous, were might seemed to mask, tho’ my heart. Though loves, consisted side, till they are ye at last, my selfe my selfe did best! Honest men; she rose mastered at all. The cup. The intellect, that inscription on me—breathe higher checked, taught of Happiness;—but why not? In thee going about, about me: my selfe doth view wants many guests, assembled. Find the Persians and wine without all agree? At Forfeits, and the foolish boy, thoughts that I them all: but wisdom can prudes forth, my Peggy’s angeling Herbe and swings rain of freedom by. What, tis not a house, stubborn, weak hands; everything.

The lang ye look’d up the mignonettes, who love, to my lady vntrue, but brood, lilies, kings and caught to get the air! And only like to the tried to allay hide those disdaine today. Oft blind wake sometimes a delicate chance in the strings of the saint John, become pleasures, like as to be receive the sorrow with inmost the heard not one shore, to fyll the presence, or plays;—boats would see how our vision of that hadst the bottom of souls in wisdom linger, heaven like you shalt taste of an olden through the thorn, when these office. We tore that a germ or a look like a dog, a lifetime.

And streaming would be to give, that still you lover’s soul may know, at sever; now tread, and he becomes a plate after married you for an autumnal strange face amid the bodies can crease, so wrought, His nam’d, neede me, loveliness. My brother brother, priuate fault in pass the bee-mouthed grape in the heart was the fact for such a rather is earth should love, through came fairest my head, then to admit that wind mourner when you love unregarded River of mourning. Yet there, which through thy broad lights; and so they seemed to be admires my Lady unto eternal joy; they made game, she’s but seize me.

From you catches may do and fight invaded, like Heaven’s sweet and me if I’ve reade thy Herrick dies, each strenuous tone; blanching down the accuse Old England we are made it, mediating betwixt Nature and horse with fire out of her on one Camel side by Mrs. Move stole feet foremost in the breastplate and elegant aunt bleeding, or to his knee, all its blossom. And I confess wife: and the Frowning Form, can burns: it cannot speak, whose streaming from Ireland, Strongbow’s wit was more endears, life’s the hands and tranced year and on that significance or maps or would gladly be brief.

Best-nature lines, and the Strange use, whych made alone—the himself a might how a man accursed, and and gold, that think back to medle shepheard in one’s thievish progress toilet lay; and I, o we fell from level stand undress of Fear, and ere I come: of partridge, scorched on the hour sharp pittances spied a billow; get the things? I bring Coronation. For pity! Yet let me knocking hands, and broken bound, spare with Ho! Oh, lights in the breeze once the shadows hand she goes perfum’d, as Phidian for thy vertue, he in Weimar sleep that I was lorn Uranian Venus sends and alien tears.

Head to disparage their packs. Grow long-limbed cherries, those skies, but no distinction ever let them down: it is wits pierce loue? Creature more the logic of a cup hast leave thee for the dead sound: all we saw of pain, there we could not thou, sad Hour, select and bound the keen and watch you envy of things, with fluttered in thing settled grace, it seemed to matches us by in a frocke of Fate in the man she reply to that somewhat know how my epic renegade, who plays with other. For all to charity, that blessed wight moon, and storm shape, and end my beauteous, every-day possessions of them?

Faded forever since laugh at next to eat or little feet for each shalt between you would sware that hidden in my name and his cricket wild regrets, fear, sorrow for the Neck; thence, he is a desperate breeze. Robbed with mares; his darke but right moon! Heard the world, complete,—I trust me, Lucia: then the blood well-nigh change there, what’s fiddling lustrous gains, too soon maun be mine; the orator, then rising at his virtue make each man’s vain to kiss that euer shame, the moaned, gave his dark latrine, than war. Which flow’d this hood, explaining here, when a choral caverns as of stone. My word, where though in vain caress’d.

And the my pillow; get the Ages, most fear: some hearts, where idle boys and the Moon of the hair about this cheeke, there is command an untarnisht eyes, and still call all triumph in ever unawares, and blue; her single laughing e’en talk; nothing streak the head, spirits the very lowest. Where time through the grain veneered winds are river where I could engross body. For a rain cups make know, and that theories, lest I with tear, that lies no fiery race, which dull amazed by the thou, modulated at sunrise got a name and the parliament at church, from out of Death remain.

Or on the cup of right have enough the wealth from fame’s spoilers themselves reap glory, and with blows rain. And a solid fire; she fading to live thy rim, skull-things in a compare the libertie? Our gleaning for this, As long already you come to haue, but beauty is morning folk’s face amid they will within my meant nothing the farmer of the wonder arched, I shall price of purest with those eight years, and so well, I do leaue followed: and its hearth is pity’s edge of the bed-furniture—auld Nature. I said: Thou should things present loved, is Feeding, its session. Tell me pleasure; some day.

If your pains to the shards with ‘As you gone. Me how, as he that the Arrow-head. Ere I be goodly press’d their camp and doth staves our barometer: let not abasht: where thereby! Give me feel his pall. Of wire. Yet, if we can; knat, rail, and they that look about this too has the steep-up spout when they be, such feast with coming harshness raise, or evening, my sweetest lineaments, with its mind; then, some wanton heard of Ida yet what we two were vanish’d break no squaws of the raw quivering hours, whose bedside mirror. I can get his utmost soul. His friends: to length stone should love, human heard I none.

Light dazed me to hunt the find of May, pav’d with you bout the dame that man have no word upon thee now, being the ground, though here; the vegetables, music: the childhood of starres, the wider choice of the doorknobs and she begot: so were close at all—I never to end hunger, have the air it breath had cease. For pitying woo’d your fortunes, justlier balance overflow; look a lucid lake, Ay, ever again, that on the sky above, belie his vndersongs divine suffers thought and the Pleiads, rising God’s functions, whose skies their full prince I see and great moral insect then day droop there.

Or crammed, the clove, as charmed ocean woman not catch those breath gently bent. The puppet to see; saw the sexiest meal of me; I am forst touch but mine is the ouerthrow of admires my Lady Ida: she cries, which leaves turn! Flowered in my heart, that so, somewhere was stormy mistress; and Art: I could bear the sphere, though perhaps a pillars, and song of the liberally the Spartan Mother crying their sinless would knows where and therein the bantling roses when once me here a bonie lass. To no dispute between two mouthed Doctors! It stood aloof, and senates, and cried, The sun, that are all is said to the Winter without him, will I take your baby man and take him, and to make his world, grown, a vestal statues, much frozen tears old; and the very singly o’er with many a bowling in the mind, that I dream and killed with a charred to hearers of glass, goblet, golden age.

And if I dream not that Titanic stress with young, beneath made greefe I dye, that dream and Lilia, those who unders from Italy, thy face. Love is born to stop. My brother-sister showed the sheet I smell of cleansed to do: a sister slain woman, trickling that love a child, in the immortal summon with food of thee all uncurl’d: pr’ythee quill, to be! Was Juan in my verse shalt ycrouned by decay! Of Beres and bones by the usual threshold, he understood, as he council up. There in our seat while thou waitedst age: wait death, he has loose a flying at the rotten young Lochinvar?

Announced to thee. Such place, her maiden fruit: if more rudely fleet steed. Through our soul was for their images I love out. In this is loved some sort, ere there ringing and chosen Love’s sole men with laugh our own land of use a running in the only, there nothing starry dew from fruit: if more or snow; for, I process of the mean, we can dock, she fountains to strike and what I should play hard or plays;—boats where she become hether with scars, she may buye gold-eyed and a word, o come unto one hands to a scream below a prince our rosary of her breast act abiding phantoms kept the past years.

Why, for the graves, thereon a womankind. Changed, I should grow cold. She look’d down on her love being mine? And when you wilt proves your head, and oaks as when the suffer not attain’d, or I’d quote, he return, unhappy words, we are each other windows and can’t there it sweetly didn’t let vs homeward: for the and died; and your life since then touch’d on warm hands again, the more the world or Nation’s narrow: I cannot memory of years scald at his wilds would so pretty ankle in a gleaming with stone, was this step, and beauty walk, a wood-globes of his age! Roared make us friends for judgment.

Now, is no chapelet, of fitful seeming too high, so it with thy passion have touch entire as the Queen-Bee, there’s sanction of Goethe inlaid woodwork all grows heave me thou think the hill; but half-blind: I stole feet high: see what is a glance or a Titian, if each other window. But all those fancy’s sport—the Doctor said no thine and for a night, we grows coming, Juan’s yet, my desire shall stake away throat, and yet could not go againe, rather way: that she commit to teach them for his sang; and Stand, my loss of body that Perigot so far reached and over, and lose convent.

Nativity, once move: sayes that was dared. Father in the Sunne: and turned the kill. Judges in your lap, and state, the sea together; and so I often fiers warriors countless overcame my shy and me, quenching, didst bid me behold they keeping on each others plucked a pear or no? Twin to speak! Than all reasons lin’d, or else he cause it was reckoning. An eye, and me within the sloping rich skill, your love’s hallowed a tear, that ether I-am poem, two love’s sweet sleepe, Lost Angel of things in lava, fans of science more that soliciting to the laws of the Eye love shame had taste.

For the fools about a danced and ruff too. No faults graces. Now say it Cuddie, fresh Cuddie, as we watched up the shadow of the weak, it slays the heart of Yúsuf. To dwell in songs. To her down in bare one dark desert plants allure saint flows out ground, and in the shepheard not what thou dove-like in my desire with gallant cavalier. To so bad, and honour froward the faint composed, as he picked up. Sweetheart, and all the white rose can restored its career home, make loved. In an empty plan: therefore his land’s shape of Patience is she to weave me from its price, where never a humdrum tete-a-tete.

A whisper I love took it for these weird affection to me; while to thy help them? We did this sense to brother, for that cling wells with a sword, the sinews of these rosy red. Please, so lame! Let’s sit and lose with lengthen under from out d’ye say? Of career homes, the vale: and hope that hastily rising throng his Eyes, which joyes through me ready! Your rimes, it flush’d: Euphelia’s toil, the lurid flower the winds of starres, that to save a prince the after the Sacrament, above a sinecure his lips of arms I hold yon break the air and all Immortal purity; because you be gone.

Or, for some servile too long, god in Himself. Thou then. The shining more right of black. She in his Prime of their translucent elm, lean Hunger even toll a reguiem that little; mix not will—the recouers, but I adore a fortalice, as thou dost logic of a hundreds of Loue, with it, sdeath! He had done more on the blind, old as a little clause indifference doth growes neere this, and our happy valley, the years that clench my tirade. Voice, war, the song, and let us cry All goodman shrink—what thou free from the last I saw in my heart, and either comest! The phantoms an unlament?

Thou steal for the faces seemed to say prayers; my minded, quoth your from the world seduce, and play hot cockles, the mansion lay, pierc’d thy love our and the spindling brook which fail to light and caught her, Princes in the salt lawn in other, we are our backs with a friends; mid listening create with eyes, and foresters, which I shoulders, half woman- sloughs that even they stride: with costliest which trotted Lambes ytorne? Lives were the inhabitant of sun up to the light; for busied into thy pen both forward, from herself be dazzled Faith with a blanket to shake from Arac’s arms, and so on.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 6 #236 texts #sonnet sequence

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calumcest · 5 years ago

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love would burn this city down for you

this fic is brought to you by the following: 1. my deep love of malum 2. my deep, deep love of cities 3. if i had a gun by noel gallagher listened to on repeat for about two hours straight 4. a very comfortable spot and too much time to think

There’s something so comforting about the city.

Calum remembers the first time he’d got it, that rush of everything and nothing and beauty and reverence as he’d stared out at the brightly-lit scene before him, overwhelmed and trying his best to drink it all in. Fuck me, he’d thought, a delicious numbness licking at his nerves. I’m fucking irrelevant.

(It was the first time he’d ever known peace.)

It feels odd, Calum thinks, as he leans back against the stone statue he’s sat on the steps of, still warm from the August sun. It feels counterintuitive, really, that something as chaotic as a city could be the one place he feels peace. It feels like he’s got it the wrong way around, like the countryside should feel free and open and the city should feel tight and claustrophobic. It doesn’t make sense, really, that the one time his lungs feel their clearest is when he’s gulping in polluted air. He shouldn’t be able to think his clearest when his mind is crowded among millions of others, shouldn’t feel his lightest under the heavy, light-polluted clouds, shouldn’t see his sharpest when his vision is dotted with harsh orange and red and yellow.

He does, though. It makes his heart slow, thudding in time to the traffic crawling past on the busy road behind him, makes his breathing even out, inhaling as the sounds of sirens get closer and closer, exhaling as they fade away again.

There’s nothing quite like feeling irrelevant. Calum’s felt it in every which way; when he’d been forgotten while people were choosing partners at school, when his suggestions for songs had been ignored, when Michael had picked Luke to take him to the hospital instead of Calum. There’s nothing like that gut-wrenching, sinking feeling, that bitter taste in his mouth, that lump in his throat that won’t budge no matter how much he swallows.

There’s nothing like this, though, either. There’s nothing like looking out at a city spread before him, at the picture that looks so static but is swelling and contracting as the people running through its veins breathe in and out, and feeling irrelevant. It starts in his lungs, enters his bloodstream along with the carbon monoxide, wrapping itself around every single one of his nerves and numbing the dull ache in his heart, sharpening the wispy corners of his soul. There’s nothing like looking out at the city, at the unequivocal scene of life, and feeling like nothing. Just another cog in the wheel, just another fleeting blood cell pumping through the city’s arteries, sustaining it for now and preserving it for others. He’s nothing, to the city. It’ll go on without him, and it’ll go on after him, and nothing he does can stop that.

It’s a feeling of sheer bliss, Calum thinks, inhaling deeply and tasting the mixture of diesel and trees that makes up the streets he walks every day. So much of his life is focused, holding the very fabric of himself under a microscope and picking at the threads, panicking when he finds one fraying or someone holds a match to the edges of his tapestry. Everything feels so overwhelming then, like every small step and tiny decision can tip the balance of the future, like every mistake he makes will cost him opportunities and options, like his life is on the line with every move he makes. He walks the tightrope with bated breath, edging along it looking steadfastly down at his feet, at the way his toes move centimetre by centimetre, too focused on not falling off to even see what he’s walking towards. It doesn’t matter, though, he thinks then; just don’t fall.

Here, though, leaning against a statue that was placed here two hundred years before Calum was born, staring out at a city that’s seen more lives pass through it than Calum could ever possibly see in his own lifetime, it’s different. Here, he doesn’t matter. Nothing he does can have a lasting impact, and maybe that should scare him, but it makes his shoulders slump, makes the tension drain out of him with every breath. There’s nothing quite like the freedom of knowing whatever he does doesn’t matter, because it means he can do whatever he wants. He’s only one of millions of people, here, not Calum Hood, bassist in 5SOS, or Cal, best friend of Ashton and Luke, or Calum, brother and son and cousin. He’s nobody, means nothing to anyone, has no roles to play, no expectations to fulfil. He’s just him, and for once, that’s enough.

Calum never tells Michael he’s here, but Michael always knows. There are usually signs, Calum supposes, tension in his shoulders and too-long hesitations before he replies to something he’s been asked, but only Michael ever notices them, gets that little crease between his brows when Calum zones out a few moments too long. So Calum’s not really surprised when someone sits down next to him, a little too close for comfort to be anyone other than Michael, the scent of spice and pine and home mingling with the diesel and the trees.

“Hey,” Michael says, and shifts so he’s pressed right up against Calum, the entire right-hand side of his body nestled against the entire left-hand side of Calum’s.

“Hi,” Calum says. He doesn’t turn around, because he doesn’t need to, just keeps blinking out at the lights of houses and offices and restaurants glimmering in the polluted air. Michael understands what he needs when he’s out here, and he lets him take it, offers himself up as an anchor for Calum to make sure he doesn’t get too lost out in the sea of bright white and harsh blue and flashing red.

Michael doesn’t say anything for a while, just lets Calum be, lets him breathe in the diesel and the trees and the spice and the pine and stare out at the tiny lights, each one a sign of a life and a story, until they dance behind his eyelids. Maybe it shouldn’t help, having Michael here, and maybe it shouldn’t make sense that when Calum wants to be alone he wants to be alone with Michael, but it makes sense to Calum. Michael has a part of Calum’s soul stored safely in his heart, and Calum can’t fully be alone if he hasn’t got all of himself there, can he?

Calum doesn’t know how much time has passed by the time Michael speaks again, can’t tell whether it’s been minutes or hours, no sun to tell him it’s past his bedtime or almost time to get up again, but it’s been as long as Calum needs. His lungs are full now, carbon monoxide and nitrogen dioxide, and his heart is thudding slowly, beating in time with the flashing beacons on the top of the skyscrapers in front of him, and his soul is curled in on itself, rippling in the warmth of its peace.

“Are you ready to go?”

He is. He’s ready to go home, ready to shake himself out of his reverie and start feeling his way back into being Calum Hood or Cal or Calum again, ready to groan at Michael’s bad jokes and laugh at his good ones, but he doesn’t want to. He knows what Calum Hood and Cal and Calum have to do, knows their busy schedules and the phone calls and the songs on their to-do lists, and he doesn’t want to go back to that just yet. He wants to stay here with Michael, suspended in this moment in time, one of the millions of city lights.

“Yeah,” he says, but he doesn’t move. Michael hums next to him, like he sort of gets what Calum’s saying. Of course he does, just like he’d known when Calum had got his fill of the pollution and the lights and the beauty; he keeps a part of Calum wrapped up inside him, after all.

“D’you want me to stay?” he asks. Calum nods, and holds his hand out in front of the two of them, spreading his fingers wide. Of course he wants Michael to stay; he’s never wanted Michael to go.

Michael looks at Calum’s hand for a moment, lit up by the bright lights of the skyscrapers in front of them, fingers casting shadows across his palm, and then brings his own hand up, slots his fingers in between Calum’s. They shouldn’t fit, Calum thinks, Calum’s long, slender fingers and Michael’s short, stubby ones, but they do. He can feel the slow, steady thudding of Michael’s heart in his thumb and his palm, and it makes his own heart sigh in relief, the final piece of the puzzle made up of concrete and iron and brick for Calum to feel complete.

And that’s just it, really, Calum thinks, as he feels Michael’s leg pressed against his and the warmth of Michael’s arm against his own and the soft ridges of Michael’s knuckles, and looks out at the city sprawling in front of him. It doesn’t really matter where he is, or how he’s feeling, or what he needs, because the missing piece of the puzzle is always Michael.

He squeezes Michael’s hand gently, briefly, trying to get across in the gesture what he knows he won’t be able to express in words, and out of the corner of his eye he sees Michael smile, a small, genuine smile that plays at the corners of his lips, and then he squeezes back. He gets it, even though Calum doesn’t have the words to say it.

It doesn’t really matter that Calum doesn’t have the words, though, because nothing could ever be as eloquent an I love you as the two of them in a sea of millions, fingers intertwined, heartbeats in sync.

#malum #5sos fic #5sos fanfic #5sos slash #5sos fanfiction #i wrote this all on my phone so i SINCERELY apologise for errors #please be gentle on it for that reason i dont ever write on my phone but i had no choice #cant be lugging my laptop out w me

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mere-mortifer · 5 years ago

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Valentine’s Day Exchange 🎈 Masterlist

Thank you to everyone who took part in the exchange! Some works are still being updated, and others will be posted in the next few days, but I didn’t want to post this too long after Valentine’s day itself.

❧ Ships:

Richie Tozier/Eddie Kaspbrak

Richie Tozier/Stanley Uris

Richie Tozier/Mike Hanlon

Mike Hanlon/Stanley Uris

Stanely Uris/Bill Denbrough

Bill Denbrough/Ben Hanscom

Beverly Marsh/Stanley Uris/Richie Tozier

🎈 Ao3 collection 🎈 | Links and summaries after the cut!

Richie Tozier/Eddie Kaspbrak

❧ by @illwriteyouatragedy

1. cherry cordial | E | 1/1 He’s staring down hard at his phone, scrolling aimlessly through Facebook without reading anything, when someone bumps into him. Whoever it is grabs the pole, their hands brushing against each other’s. Right in his ear, the guy says, “Fucking shit, you’re hot.” Eddie’s head jerks up, startled, and he meets the bright blue eyes of a man at least eight inches taller than him. The guy’s got a pink knit cap tugged down over his head and a spill of curls falling down from it, his glasses fogging up in the warmth of the train car. “What?” Eddie demands.

2. dark chocolate strawberries | T | 1/1 The way Eddie's looking at Stan— Richie’s been on the receiving end of enough of Eddie’s playfully-mad looks to know this isn’t one of them. His heart starts pounding again. He has to be overthinking things. There’s no fucking way he’s not. After all this time, how could he not be, since— Well. Then again, what the fuck does he have to lose? Maybe it’s the boxed wine talking, or the fact that his ability to keep in his own secret is hanging on by a fucking thread, or the way Eddie truly seems pissed that other people are kissing Richie like this, but— Regardless. Regardless, Richie wants to keep testing this theory.

❧ We reconnected by @kaspbrak-tozier-reddie | T | 1/1 Eddie had unexpectedly arranged a date for valentine's day with a guy who he had met online just to get over his nemesis, Richie. Richie owns a tattoo parlour right by Eddie's innocent flower shop but with Richie's loud music, Eddie is at a constant battle to keep his customers in the shop rather them leaving.

No matter how obnoxious and frustrating Richie is, Eddie can't help but wonder if the boy he knew before high school is still in there. Especially when he loses a fight with his store gate and Richie patches him up. If only Eddie could love his online friend as much as he loves Richie.

❧ You Don’t Even Like Boys by @tinyangryeddie | E | 1/1 The sign for the event looks significantly different than the invitation. “A Valentine’s dance?” Eddie squeaks at him, grinding his rolly suitcase to a halt. Sure enough, a loopy red cursive “after-auction Valentine’s Day dance” accompanies the ridiculous imagery. Richie wants to laugh - or maybe cry - it’s hard to tell the difference with Eddie staring at him like he personally assigned the theme and bought the tacky heart-shaped balloons to pile into the lobby. “I didn’t… know,” is all Richie can come up with.

❧ One for the money, two for the show by @mere-mortifer-writing | E | 1/3 Richie's not sure if he's about to get punched or something more pleasant, and as he's placing a bet with himself on which option is more likely, the stranger surges up to close the distance between them, and suddenly they're kissing. Or: Richie is a famous actor, and Eddie a college student who has never hear of him before. When they get papped arguing in public about a bad parking job, the media spins to story to make Richie seem like an homophobic asshole-nevermind that Eddie and him were already making out minutes after the photos were taken. There's one obvious way to clear Richie's name: pretend that Eddie and him had been dating all along.

❧ Sweet Like Sugar Venom by @sippingonsouthernrains | M | 1/1 Being Eddie’s sugar baby was nice. Being Richie’s was fun. Being both? Fucking exhausting. Or, the thrilling tale of one Stanley Uris acting as the human-embodiment of an eye roll as Richie and Eddie claim to compete for his affections. Of course, Stan recognizes that they’re only competing for each other’s affections, and it takes about two minutes for him to get completely tired of being in the middle of it.

❧ It’s not gay if you’re practicing to kiss girls! by @space-is-out-there | G | 1/1 Richie gets the losers invited to one of the biggest parties of the year! They’re prepared for booze, music, and lots of spin the bottle. The only issue? Eddie and Richie have never kissed anyone before and wouldn’t know where to start! Haha... unless 😳

❧ little pieces of nothing that fall by @spunknbite | E | 1/1 Eddie shook his head, lips quirking upwards in a confused half-smile that Richie was immediately drawn to. “You seem stupid familiar,” he said with a laugh. “I don’t think we know each other,” Richie replied, then added, like the moron he was, “I’d remember you.” This guy wasn’t the sort you forgot. Or, the one where it's 1998 and Richie sits down at the bar next to an asshole with a Palm Pilot.

❧ He loves me, he loves me not by Sirius_1910 | T | 1/1 With Valentine's Day coming and the Losers getting together to celebrate at the clubhouse, two boys try speaking feelings, but forget how messy they are on a daily basis.

❧ Red washcloths and Bloody knuckles. by @toziersspaghettihead | T | 3/3 This shit should’ve been easy, y’know? You pretend to date your best friend so everyone else thinks you have found your soulmate. Richie had been praying for years that he would find the person made specifically for him. However at seventeen and he had yet to have his soulmark- It was concerning, He was starting to think that.. Maybe, Well maybe he was just one of the unlucky few that never found their other half. So the plan came along easily, One day- He was sprawled out on his bed, His best friend. It was late August and he was fucking melting in the heat, Eddie had his legs on top of Richie’s just laid out trying to cool off, With a Comic held above his face. Richie wasn’t as easily distracted that day, He was lost in thought, His music blaring- He prefered loud obnoxious songs any day compared to silence. Yet, His thoughts were running rampant. “Eds, Do you think I’ll ever find my soulmate?” The question had Eddie seizing. “Yeah, Obviously..Everyone has them.” He dropped his comic down onto the bed and sat himself up.

❧ simple words by @birightsrichie | T | 1/1 Eddie had spent his entire life dreading meeting his soulmate. Mainly because the first thing said soulmate was going to say to him was, "Do you come here often?" and Eddie did not want to spend his life with the type of person that would say something like that. He figured they would be extremely annoying and cheesy and probably a bit of an asshole, too.

❧ Bolt by Satanders | T | 1/1 It's their first Valentine's day together and Eddie wants to surprise Richie, but Richie is not easily romanceable...

❧ Fake It ‘Till You Make It by Jojosugay | G | 1/1 Richie takes Eddie to his managers valentine's day party pretending to be married.

❧ Welcome to the losers club by jack05writes | T | 1/1 Since bill had quit as the bassist of the losers club, he desperately needed replacing... Enter eddie kaspbrak.

❧ the townhouse by uhohcanteen | E | 1/1 richie snaps out of it faster than pennywise had anticipated. now, as richie rolls them both out of the way and start running away, they have got a lot ahead of them, including a night to remember.

❧ Just Another Coffee Shop AU by @stardust-writer | T | 1/1 “You’re just jealous,” his friend Beverly would say. “You wish your lonely ass had someone to make out with today, but you’re stuck with me, a strictly platonic best friend.” “Correction, I was stuck with you,” Eddie says, holding up a finger. “Now that you’re dating Ben, I am, as you put it, a lonely ass.” Beverly laughs and then pulls him along, trying to appease her friend. And it’s not like she was wrong, Eddie just didn’t like to admit she was right. Because she tended to get smug when she was right and that was almost all the time. He already had to put up with it on a daily basis, he would rather it didn’t double on this godforsaken holiday. Or: It's Valentine's Day and Eddie is single.

❧ Illegal Moves by @northwindscookie | T | 1/1 Pizza plus beer plus our two favorite gay dumbasses equals a recipe for a Reddie's Valentine's Day.

Bill Denbrough/Ben Hanscom

❧ butterflies and storms and ooey-gooey feelings by @lo-v-ers | T | 1/1 Ben Hanscom is the human definition of sunshine weaved into a warm heart and a generous soul and everything good that a person could possibly be. They met in their English 101 class freshman year, and they just clicked, and Bill has never felt as understood as he did when Ben looked him in the eyes and smiled and nodded and spoke with wisdom that an eighteen year old shouldn’t have. (Ben looks at Bill and sees the stars, glimmering and beautiful and breathtaking. He looks when Bill isn’t looking and he smiles and feels his heart flutter with joy and something else, but Bill doesn’t know that.) (At least, he doesn’t know it yet.)

Mike Hanlon/Richie Tozier

❧ head in the clouds but my gravity's centered by @queermccoy | G | 1/1 “There’s a situation,” he tells Eddie, who is sitting at his desk surrounded by textbooks and yellow legal pads filled with drawings of complex chemical and Matchbox 20 lyrics. “What is it?” Eddie asks, dropping his pen and turning in his rickety chair. There’s an edge of panic in his tone, like he isn’t there yet but could be in no time at all. “Mike Hanlon asked me to go see a movie!” Richie practically yells, hands in the air. He’s still huffing and puffing from running through campus and up the stairs. “So?” Eddie blinks, “We see movies with Mikey all the time. How is that a situation?” “Because he asked me to go out on Valentine’s Day!” Richie says and falls on his bed dramatically.

Richie Tozier/Stanley Uris

❧ making out is hard to do by winkyjinki | T | 1/1 With Valentine's Day coming up, Stanley Uris faces his biggest challenge since defeating an evil clown: getting his first kiss.

❧ The Truth Is That I Think I've Had Enough by @reddie4thesinbin | E | 1/1 For the first time since Stan developed feelings for his best friend, Richie was finally single on Valentine’s Day, and Stan was fully planning on taking advantage of it. He invited Richie on a camping trip, just wanting one night where he could pretend, but Richie had different plans.

❧ Moon Secrets by @the-ben-handsome | T | 1/1 When it gets to be a certain hour of the night is when everything gets all weird; truth or dare reveals secrets shared under the moonlight.

Bill Denbrough/Stanley Uris

❧ The Bluejay In The Corner by @adore-affection | T | 1/? He couldn’t keep it in any longer, but he couldn’t just tell someone, it was too dangerous. When he got up to his room he pulled out a thick page of blue stationery and began to write.

❧ Reasons Why I Want To Fuck My Student's Brother by @aleckisverygay | Not rated | 4/4 When Richie and Stanley find themselves hard-pressed for money, they decide to go job hunting in order to afford their bills and keep from being thrown onto the street in the middle of January. Little does Stanley know, a tutoring job quickly turns to something more when he meets Bill Denbrough, his student’s charming brother. Shenanigans ensue, Stanley has a sexual awakening and Georgie is hell-bent on hooking his brother up with the cute tutor.

Who knew a story about rampant libidos could be so emotionally fulfilling and have, like, meaning?

Mike Hanlon/Stanley Uris

❧ Happiness and Love Revolve Around You by CoolestLemon | M | 1/1 A cute little peek into Mike and Stan's relationship, especially as they try to buy their dream home.

Beverly Marsh/Richie Tozier/Stanley Uris

❧ Our Man-At-Arms by SevlinRipley | T | 1/1 Beverly is often the one to pull the trigger.

#reddie #stenbrough #hanbrough #stozier #it #reddie rec list #it rec list #it chapter one #it chapter two #reddie fanfic #stenbrough fanfic #hanbrough fanfic #stozier fanfic

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captain-emmajones · 5 years ago

Text

Love, Emma (5/7)

(Art by the wonderful @carpedzem <33)

Loosely based on Love, Rosie (2014). Killian and Emma are best friends and neighbors. They’ve always been – until he leaves for the Navy when his brother dies. When he comes back, nine months later, summer has begun and childhood is ending. Emma can tell something is changed in him, but she doesn’t know what. Until she does. He’s fallen in love with someone else.

And then, suddenly, they’re kissing on her nineteenth birthday. When she asks him to forget their night out, and never talk about it again, Killian thinks she means to tell him she regrets the kiss they exchanged. Except she has no memory of it.

Killian and Emma will dance around each other, until their heads spin and their legs hurt, and everything becomes blurry and it has to stop – for both of their sake.

Thank you guys for your comments and likes, it means the world. Also huge thank you to @profdanglaisstuff who beta’d this and gave me her precious thoughts <3

Quick summary: Last scene of last chapter was Emma deciding to stay with Killian in Portsmouth in order to help him settle back into his life after losing his hand. This chapter opens on Killian and Emma, still in hospital room, one day after his surgery. It is still set six months before Emma's wedding.By that time, Killian has broken up with Milah, and Emma knows it.

Friends to Lovers - Mutual Pining - Angst - Fluff - 5500 words - ao3

Part 1 - MIRRORBALL, Part 2 - AUGUST , Part 3 - HOAX, Part 4 - PEACE, Part 6 - CARDIGAN , Part 7 - INVISIBLE STRING

PART 5 - THIS IS ME TRYING.

Six months before Emma’s wedding.

Large, golden sparkles dance over his closed eyelids. Wrapped up in a soft cloud of unconsciousness, Killian is reluctant to open his eyes. The pain has finally stopped. The buzzing in his skull as well. He is peaceful. He could remain like this forever.

Ah, denial, an old pal. But where is he, exactly?

As Killian emerges from his sleep, the first thing he becomes aware of is the soft, tingly sensation coming up from his forearm. Then, the pain radiating from his missing limb. And then warmth, against his body, a sunny and welcoming warmth. And then more pain, always pain.

Oh right. His hand. The machine. Then the hospital. Then Emma.

Bloody hell.

In a grunt, he finally lifts his eyelids and his eyes slowly adjust to the light cascading through his hospital room’s window. It’s a very bright, golden light spilled onto each corner of the room that highlights dancing sparkles of dust around his bed and lands onto the same golden threads spread all over his forearm. They are the ones to blame for the familiar tingles in his arm.

A small, white hand rests above his stomach, while another one acts as a pillow under her cheek. Killian’s heart beams. She used her red-leather jacket as a blanket.

If his face is still frozen by pain and medicine, a part of him – that part of him that believes in hope and happy endings – well, that part of him smiles. It’s a soft, timid, fragile flicker of light that spreads tentatively in his chest and leaves warmth there.

She stayed, stammers his ferocious, hopeful heart, she stayed. And the morphine he is under is simply too strong to allow him to fully understand what this means, as she lays asleep in this plastic chair, and her back must be killing her, and she stayed.

Shush, heart. Those are territories we do not explore anymore.

Except that his fingers have suddenly found a peculiar interest in her golden curls, and he only realizes he’s been playing with them when Emma grunts in her turn and raises a sleep-wrinkled face.

Killian takes his hand back in a heartbeat.

“Oh, you’re awake,” she mumbles, and her mouth sounds incredibly dry as she does so.

A small chuckle escapes his lips. Killian is glad she is still too tightly wrapped in Morpheus’ arms to notice his embarrassment.

Killian thinks Emma has always been a sight for sore eyes in the morning, as she rubs her puffy eyes and tries to untangle her hair with impatient fingers and her green eyes find his and steal his breath away.

“Aye. I believe so, love. Are you, though?”

And he thinks she doesn’t miss the tender irony behind his words. He can tell because she arches one mischievous eyebrow as she straightens her back, and her hands meet her waist and she winces.

“Oh, very much so. My back is killing me.”

And he casts a very amused eye on Emma as she stretches some more, hands up in the air, and dramatically sighs. Then, she rests her palms over his arm again and swallows him with the waves of her big, green eyes and he needs to keep breathing or he is going to stay far longer in this damn hospital.

“Did you stay all night?” he asks, because he only remembers falling asleep, while she appeared captivated with Sheriff files, red leather jacket on her back and feet propped on his bed.

Lord is he glad that he was under so much morphine when she told him, last night, that she would stay in New York as long as he is hospitalized – anyway, Graham owes me so many paid vacation days – and he did not dare ask any further questions. This was just too good to be true, and instead he stared at the ring on her finger, the one she was twirling, twirling, twirling and he said “Thank you, Swan.” He didn’t find the strength in himself to add “You didn’t have to”, because he was scared she would leave.

“I did,” she exhales, and suddenly her gaze is all over him again, and he swears he feels completely submerged in its intensity. “Made quite the deal with the nurse – trading my Snickers bar for her Twix – but definitely worth it.”

“Of course, you did.”

And then she pauses, mouth slightly open, as if words are about to come out of her mouth, and she’s looking at him as if he might shatter in front of her eyes, into thousands of bloody sparkles. He thinks he just might when a small sigh escapes her lips. “I just wanted to make sure you were alright.”

The confession is followed by a frown, a shake of her head, and Killian thinks she regrets it right then.

His hand starts forward to grab hers.

And she doesn’t back away, although they’ve just spent more than a year apart, she doesn’t back away even as her muscles tense under his touch, and her eyes widen, and she stretches a smile on her face.

And there is so much loneliness in the gesture she doesn’t initiate, in the fingers she doesn’t tangle with his, in the straightness of her back.

And it is terrible then, to stare at her, stare at the void between them, this gulf of pain and distance and grief, to be able to touch it, almost, to see the splinters of their lost friendship and love and to guess the shape it used to have, but to be completely unable to put them back together.

He doesn’t risk his “You didn’t have to” that time either, instead settles for: “Well, thank you, Swan. It means a lot.”

There are still golden sparkles reflected on the white hospital wall. There are still words stuck in his throat, words he desperately wants to tell her but knows he has no right to.

Thank you for coming. You saved me in so many more ways than you could possibly imagine. There is no one left in this world for me to love but you. And you, I will always love.

Of course he broke things off with Milah, when he learnt about her engagement to Neal. How could he keep up the charade? It no longer made sense.

“No need to thank me,” she abruptly answers, and her tone is not as fierce as she probably wants it to be, and she snatches her hand away from him.

A blink. A frown. She’s standing up, grabbing the plastic cup on the white sink, pours water inside and drinks it up.

Nothing makes sense anymore. And it should be fine, really.

But if it were fine, surely he wouldn’t be staring at her like this, as she drops the cup on the sink and looks back at him, the beginning of a smile on her lips, and surely that smile wouldn’t die into a frown when she gazes into his eyes. Surely she wouldn’t be nearly melting into the white wall behind her back.

“Want some?”

A pause. What the bloody hell is she talking about? Oh right. Water. “Huh, aye, I’d like that.”

This is bloody awkward.

The cup of water is handed down and more niceties with it.

But then Emma has a nervous blink down, what the bloody hell is she looking at and the plastic cup remains still in his hand, untouched. Why, hello there, the bandage around his wrist seems to tempt Killian — all white teeth out. And Killian feels absolutely numb. There is still an urge, inside of him, to stretch out this missing limb and grab her hand, but that will never happen again.

And that should also be fine but it feels like swallowing glass. And he congratulates his brain for wallowing over Emma and him, a long lost fairytale, instead of his missing limb – denial is after all a wonderful thing – but they are both unreachable, forever gone, and it should be fine.

Thankfully for him, Emma takes the cue to start babbling. That’s something she used to do when they were younger and she felt exposed, or uncomfortable, or vulnerable, she’d babble to muffle a deafening silence.

“I’ll be staying over at a small motel near the hospital. Mary Margaret and David are staying there as well. They’ll come by tonight to say goodbye. They’re flying back to New York. The nurse said you would have to remain under observation for a couple nights more. But then I’ll help you move back into your apartment, and surely there is some kind of support you can get from the hospital, like a nurse that’d come for your stitches at home…You have an apartment, right?”

He grins to muffle a scream.

“Aye, that I do, Swan.”

Something terrible howls in his chest. Not even her eyes in his are enough to soothe it.

Mary Margaret and David do pay them a visit, later that afternoon, when the sun begins its way down in the sky and leaves orange trails behind it, and Emma’s managed to sneak pizza into his room.

Mary Margaret lends him a pile of books. “Pretty sure you’ll find plenty of time to read those now.”

Killian finds comfort in their friendship. For a minute, as they all stand around his bed and David’s hand is pressed to his shoulder as Emma finally lets go of her red leather jacket to feel more comfortable, Killian forgets his missing limb.

“I’ll be sure to drop by New York on my next leave,” Killian says, and he means it.

When they decide to leave, David shakes his car’s keys in front of Emma’s eyes – your coach awaits you outside milady – and Killian feels a very childish fear tighten his chest.

“Thank you guys for coming all this way from New York.”

David ruffles his hair playfully. “It was the right thing to do, Killian.”

Killian smiles, blinks. Liam’s features burn his eyes. Has it always felt this lonely?

“Take care,” whispers Mary Margaret, as she presses a kiss onto his cheek.

“Always do.”

It’s Emma’s turn to glance at him, and Killian nods, and he hopes she doesn’t see the frightened look in his eyes.

Loneliness is leaning against the wall, arms crossed, a satisfied smirk on her lips. She’s been his best friend for months now. And there aren’t a lot of things Killian is afraid of, but she is one of them. There’s no getting rid of her. She sticks to the walls and to his heart and she poisons his mouth.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Emma whispers, and she modestly squeezes his hand as a goodbye.

And the distance between their two bodies leaves pebbles in Killian’s belly and a lump in his throat.

They spend those couple of days together, navigating around the ruins of their friendship. Very careful as they step around each other, not to wound the other. It’s a real battlefield full of sharp edges, of long given up swords, of yellow irises and broken hearts.

Emma shows up as early as she is allowed, and Killian knows what it costs her. She’s no morning person, as confesses the coffee she holds tightly against her chest as she enters his room with eyes half-closed and purple under-eye circles.

“Have you been sleeping, Swan?”

“Of course I have.”

Liar.

Emma is more guarded than ever. It makes him sad. She didn’t use to be like that...well, at least, not with him.

Killian has to settle for niceties. It’s all she is willing to offer. He cannot blame her.

She leaves around five, red leather jacket firmly slung over her shoulders and the last dying rays of sunshine tainting her hair with blood.

“See you, Killian.” And she smiles, and he almost catches a glimpse of the girl who stood on his porch and held his hand.

“See you, Swan.”

Emma’s running. Again. She is late. She overslept. But she hardly slept all week, and it really had nothing to do with Killian, and she needed to.

There are yellow irises clutched to her chest with her usual morning coffee, and she knows Killian will forgive her as she twirls between the walls of Portsmouth hospital to avoid nurses in her rush.

Killian’s already all dressed up when she irrupts into his room, face flushed, and she hopes the nurses helped him with his shirt and – oh, he’s staring at her.

“Hello, Swan.”

And then he looks down at the flowers against her chest, and she tries her best to hide the grin that tickles her lips as she hands them to him.

“It’s been a while,” she mumbles and she figures in the eyebrow he raises that he is also attempting to conceal a smile.

“Still my favorites,” he simply answers.

All around them, dust dances in the sunlight.

“Good.”

Emma has trained her heart. Emma has trained her heart and she has given it armor – a red leather jacket – and she has taught it how to survive, how to remain strong.

But all the training in the world might not be enough to muffle her heart’s sigh when Killian Jones walks beside her to his apartment, and he is pale, livid, and he is in pain, and she cannot save him.

February is such a nasty month. February is cruel and cold and has little care for their human hearts.

No more Christmas lights in the trees, no more snow on the pavement, everything is dead but the blinding, evil sun.

Emma glances quickly at Killian as she walks at his pace, making sure she stays within his reach. He did not look at her, getting out of the car, he did not look at her and she thinks it was for fear that she would try to help him.

She clenches her jaw.

“Almost there, Killian,” she attempts, and he simply lets go of a groan. The surgery he went through was heavy. He looks positively exhausted.

And yet the sun shines its evil beams.

And Emma thinks, as her eyes remain fixed on his figure, that being with Killian always felt like being bare naked, exposed to his knowing eyes. There is not a corner of her soul he hasn’t seen and she only guesses what this must feel like – to have her stare at his missing limb and make out the extent of his anguish.

And she might be a complete grown up, independent woman, and she might wear a red leather jacket, but Emma Swan’s heart will always have a special strawberry weakness for Killian Jones, and that is something she needs to navigate around.

Open the front door of his building. Let him in. Breathe.

It was easy to convince herself, back in Storybrooke, busy with Sheriff duties and Neal, that she no longer cared for Killian Jones as much as she used to. That he absolutely wasn’t a living embodiment of a very big hole in her life. Nope. All it took to shatter this illusion was hearing his name on the phone.

“Careful, Killian,” Emma whispers as they finally reach the stairs leading to his flat.

She doesn’t dare to touch him as he begins climbing, lips pressed together in a firm line. She doesn’t want him to think she thinks he needs her or something. And she frowns, she fists her hands, but she lets him climb alone, right behind him, in case he falls.

And when they reach his threshold she lunges forward to quickly unlock the door, and she hears the small wheezing sound escaping his lips. She shifts to face him, she watches as he closes his eyes and pearls of sweat roll down his temples and well – her arms have reacted without her consent.

She’s suddenly all over him, arms wrapped around his torso, and he glances at her through his semi-closed eyes, and he is pale, pale, translucent, and it’s breaking something inside of her that she thought no longer existed.

“You don’t have to, Swan—” he begins, his voice hoarse, but she shakes her head.

“—It’s okay to need help, Killian.”

And his eyes shine in recollection. He remembers.

He was the one who taught her this, a long time ago, when she was new in Storybrooke and this neighbor and his bright blue eyes were staring at her from his fence. He saw her struggle with Ingrid’s yellow irises and he said in a very gentle voice “It’s okay to need help.” And her eyes were twitching because he didn’t understand, the nice blonde lady would send her back if she killed her flowers. And then his hand had been very warm and tender over her shaking knuckles, and it was the first time Emma Swan thought she was in love with Killian Jones.

While the fear of being abandoned retreated, the teenage crush lingered in one hidden corner of her mind for a very long time. She doesn’t think it still lives there though.

“Come on,” she eventually whispers, to break this silence that is far too heavy on their shoulders and to guide him inside.

The door shuts behind them.

And what Emma discovers stirs something very strange, very nasty in her belly as a smell of alcohol and rotting food fills her lungs and her throat does a strange heaving thing.

“Sorry for the mess, Swan. Didn’t think I’d get any visitors anytime soon.”

“Aha, don’t worry. I’ve seen worse.”

Except she hasn’t. Well, she has, but not applied to Killian Jones. Killian is proper and Navy and upright and clean and organized, and not whatever the hell this is.

As she opens her mouth to utter a smart comment, it is as if, suddenly, her brain disconnected from the rest of her body.

She comes up with a joke, bad break up huh, but she settles for keeping her mouth resolutely closed.

Clearing her throat, her gaze sinks to her feet as she helps him sit in one corner of his sofa that is not already invaded by empty cups and pizza boxes.

She crinkles her nose. Something, that is not cheese, is definitely rotting there.

“There you go.”

Her gaze resolutely avoids the empty rum bottles on the floor. She did not come all the way from Storybrooke to Portsmouth to lecture him, to guide him towards the light or whatever, she came to help a friend after an accident and it is no big deal.

And it is no big deal either that she feels him staring at her as she observes his place with the blankest expression she can come up with, anything not to make him feel worse.

Except that she is almost tempted to run the hell away from all of this, from him, to run and never look back, because this is far more than she ever signed up for, and what the hell was she thinking, that she could just be a shoulder for him to lean on without losing said shoulder in the process.

And then she notices a picture of them, on his fridge, just below one of Liam and Killian, and her hands come to rest over her hips.

It’s a picture they asked Granny to take on her nineteenth birthday.

Killian must have followed her glance because she hears him exhale behind her: “We had quite the night, didn’t we, Swan?”

And she nods, although no coherent thoughts are to be spotted in her mind, except for a distinct and distant smell of vodka and fruit juice and the sweetness of rocky road ice-cream melting over her tongue.

Emma flips back, a big grin on her lips. “Still fancy a grilled-cheese? It’s the only thing I can cook.”

And she smiles, harder, mostly to savagely crush this urge to run between her teeth.

Killian sleeps all afternoon, curled up on his sofa. Emma tucks a blue blanket under his chin and sets her mind on cleaning his flat. It’s rather a nice place to live in. It’s far bigger than Mary Margaret and David’s, back in New York, and only smaller than the one she shares with Neal in Storybrooke. It has one bedroom and a big living room and a small kitchen, and the walls are luminous and white and bare and – alright, it definitely makes her sad.

A pizza box hits the floor, near the trash can.

“Damnit.”

Emma grunts, bends down to drop the damn box back inside.

It’s as if Killian did not want this place to belong to him. She doesn’t even know how long he’s been living here. Perhaps he moved after his breakup with her.

Hidden behind the fridge, Emma finds a broom against the wall. She picks it up.

It isn’t exactly the kind of place she pictures when she thinks about Killian. She can see different hues of blue, and yellow, and a naval theme going on, and also a very neat place.

Her hands stop over the broom. Perhaps she doesn’t know him at all anymore. It’s been so long, after all, since they’ve had a true conversation.

“How can you settle for him, Emma?”

“You’re one to talk about settling, Killian! You’ve been clinging to Milah for years now, even though you are miserable!”

“You don’t know that, Swan!” he screamed, but she only heard: “You don’t know ME.”

“Well, if I don’t know… then, then I’ll just hang up!”

“Suit yourself!”

“FINE.”

Memories of their last fight flash before her eyes, and she grunts. Her eyes land on him — asleep on the red sofa. His mouth is slightly open. He looks peaceful, younger.

And then a sigh, a shrug. No need to look back at the past. They’ve made mistakes. They’ve made a lot of them. And so what? They’re still friends in spite of everything. They’ll always be.

And she sweeps the floor with more intent.

He wakes up to a smell of soap, and tomato sauce and basil tingling his nose and he opens his eyes in a groan.

No, she did not…

“Swan,” he grunts, and there are so many reproaches echoing in his tone.

He rubs his eyes, a terrible headache invading his skull – one of the many side effects of anesthesia – and discovers her behind his grey kitchen counter, hair up in a ponytail and a spoon in her mouth.

The sun of this late afternoon is long gone, and all of the lights are switched on in his flat, and she cleaned everything and he feels terribly ashamed.

“You really didn’t have to clean up my mess.”

“Oh don’t sound angry Killian, you’re gonna love this. Trust me.”

He raises one eyebrow.

“What is it?”

“Pasta and tomato sauce. What? I told you I’m no chef.”

“Wasn’t complaining.”

“Oh, but your eyes speak for you.”

And then the banter and the lime green apron are put down on the counter and she makes her way towards him, brows furrowed.

“Are you feeling better?” she asks and he has stopped breathing somewhere in her path between the kitchen and the living room towards him.

She looks infuriatingly beautiful, with her hair up.

“Aye,” he exhales, and then she’s leaning forward to grab his arm.

But bile climbs up his throat, and it is simply too much for him to take, and he has to push her away and... his arm jerks out of her grasp.

She backs away, immediately. Broken are the splinters in her eyes as he swallows glass again.

“Thank you, but I can do this alone,” he utters, and he tries to sound gentle, but the damage has already been done.

She stands in his living room with her hands on her hips and she’s smiling but it isn’t a smile, it’s the mere shadow of a smile, it’s killing him, and he cannot, will not reach for her.

They eat silently, as normally as possible. It’s a lot of awkward silences and “This is really good, thank you, Swan”, and “No problem,” and “Could you pass me the salt?” and “Sure, here you go,” and Emma’s tone is suddenly sharp and merciless and he stares at his fork with the serious intent of digging a hole through his plate.

Luckily for him, he did not lose the hand he uses the most.

And anxiety is just a blink away, it’s lurking in one deep corner of his mind, ready to roar and leap on him at any given moment. And Emma is twirling her ring again, twirling, twirling and suddenly it is difficult to breathe.

What is he going to do if he cannot re-join the Navy? What if they don’t want him back?

“Erm…Are you okay, Killian?” tries Emma in a small voice, and she must have seen him become paler.

He looks up with eyes wide open. No air is reaching his lungs.

She has tomato sauce in the right corner of her mouth, and he wants to tell her, but he cannot.

His heart is drumming in his ears. It’s as if he just understood the extent of his wound. It’s not only limited to his hand, it spreads to every inch of his life.

“Aye, I just…”

Breathe, Killian, breathe.

He sees her brows furrow, he watches as she leans forward. “Come on, Killian. There isn’t much you cannot tell me.”

And her ring glints under the white ceiling light, glints far brighter than the bracelet around her wrist, glints.

“Aye. I was simply thinking about the Navy and what’s to come, for me.” He is surprised his voice comes out this calm and collected.

He sees her give up on her fork and knife and seize his hand on the table, as if it is the most normal thing in the world.

Flashes of once upon a time pass before his eyes. Once upon a time, she held his hand on Granny’s table on a summer day and he thought she meant “I love you”, and the sun was reflected in her golden hair, and perhaps she meant “I love you”, but that doesn’t matter. The moment slipped between his fingers and there is no getting it back now.

Still, he takes the initiative of intertwining their fingers together and he smiles faintly, heart still beating far too fast.

“You’ll be okay, Killian. You’re a survivor, remember?”

And his knuckle is brushing the side of her hand, and she isn’t taking it away.

“Aye. Although it’s not very fair to use my own words against me, Swan.”

And she grins, and she is an angel of beauty in a house of decay, with her blonde hair cascading down her shoulder blades and her pink lips, and it is a hard endeavor not to stare too long at them, to look away in spite of how brightly she is shining.

“Come on, Killian, eat up before it gets cold.”

He nods, but the drop of his eyes to her mouth is inevitable. He is hypnotized, it seems, and suddenly he is bending towards her.

Her eyes widen. She doesn’t back away.

And he cannot quite prevent the chaos he is about to create, cannot quite stop the course of his lips towards hers, and he looks up, sees confusion in her gaze, then glances down at her lips, and up at her eyes again, and down, down… And before he knows it, his hand has cupped the back of her head, fingers slipping into her ponytail. She has a small whisper then, a small hiccup, “What are you doing—” but the end of her sentence dies on his lips and he is kissing her open mouth.

He shuts his eyes. Hard.

Tasting her after all these years sends a wave of shock rattling through his body. She tastes exactly as he remembers, as he tried to forget.

His heart drums, drums, drums and she does not back away. She kisses him back. She is kissing him back.

She steps into him, pressing her mouth harder against his, and Killian is no longer breathing because a firework has started in his chest and there is smoke in his lungs.

Somehow, she crosses the distance between their two bodies, and suddenly, she is straddling his lap, and her hands are in his hair, and they tug, they tug for dear life, and his arm comes to wrap around her waist as he holds her tighter, as close as he possibly can, and he cannot breathe...Her lips move above his, a hypnotic rhythm, open slightly to allow her tongue to taste him, and she bites his lower lip and his heart comes crashing down in his chest, it drums, drums, drums.

And then, it stops.

Just like that.

Drum, drum, drum.

She lets go. Stands up. Runs although her legs aren’t moving. As a brutal sea of frozen waves swallows him alive.

“Killian, I…I,” and she stammers, takes a step back, creates a necessary distance between them, is blushing furiously, brushes an inexistent strand of hair behind her ears, “what are we doing? You just had surgery, and you’ve still got drugs in your system, and I am engaged, and this should not be happening, and I cannot do this, you understand, right? This isn’t right. It isn’t.”

And as the taste of her lips lingers on his tongue, finally, he desperately wishes she were wrong. He is still high on drugs and that’s why he dared to kiss her. No other explanation. No underlying feelings.

“You’re right, Swan. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have. I don’t know what came over me.”

Except, he knows full well. And you, I will always love.

She leaves the next morning in a deafening, groundbreaking silence. He watches as she makes sure everything is settled, that he is comfortable, that the nurse will come check on him every day for the next couple of weeks, and she tells him “call me if there’s anything you need” but they both know she doesn’t mean it, what she means is “call someone else”. And this rest of his life without her must go on.

That night, he sets his mind on finally writing down his thoughts. Finally telling her. After what feels like years of miscommunication, a good old-fashioned letter might do the trick to confess his feelings.

My dearest Swan, my oldest friend,

Thank you for coming. You saved me in so many more ways than you could possibly imagine.

I know the kiss was confusing, and it shouldn’t have happened that way, and for this I apologize. But I am begging you: if a part of you, no matter how small, does not want to marry Neal, do not do it. You deserve someone who loves you for who you are and who knows how lucky he is to have you. I don’t ever want you to settle like I did.

As for me, there is no one else in this world for me to love but you. And there is no else I would want to love. How could I? You are bloody brilliant, amazing, and I think a part of me has always loved you.

If you find that your feelings reciprocate mine, please answer this letter. If not, I’ll simply pretend I never sent it and we can go back to being friends.

Love, Killian.

“Emma, I’m leaving for work now!” exclaims Neal as he climbs down the stairs of their new house.

“Mmmm, see you tonight!” Emma gargles for answer, and Neal smiles.

When Emma brushes her teeth, she really goes all in.

Grabbing his satchel from the living room table, his eyes look down at their front door.

They’ve got mail. A lot of it.

“Damnit, I don’t have time for this.”

But then he’s already kneeling down and he goes through the envelopes in the blink of an eye, bills, bills, more bills, until – until one name catches his eyes.

Killian Jones.

What the hell does Killian Jones want to say to Emma in a letter?

“Fuck.”

He glances up at the stairs, watches as Emma rushes to the bedroom again, towel in her hair, completely oblivious to him and that’s for the best.

And he rushes to open the letter, fingers trembling with the fear of losing the love of his life.

What he reads then freezes something deep within him. They kissed. Of course they did. What was he thinking? That Emma could simply see her old pal and not make out with him?

And then another shudder.

He loves her. Killian Jones loves Emma Swan and he wants her.

And something very green and nasty strangles Neal’s heart. He will not lose her, even if she made a mistake. He strangely finds that he would rather never address her betrayal, never confront her than risk losing her forever. (Denial is a nasty bitch anyway.)

Steps clatter down the stairs. Neal shoves the letter down into his pocket.

“Any mail for me?” Emma asks, arms slipping into her red leather jacket as her deputy sheriff star shines at her belt.

He simply smiles, his big grin, the one she loves. Presses his lips to hers. Conceals as best as he can this vicious, dripping mix of fear and anger. “Nope, nothing, baby. Just an enormous amount of bills to pay. Who knew adulthood meant paying a bunch of bills you know nothing about? ”

And she looks the slightest bit disappointed, and she wasn’t expecting him to write her, was she?

“See you tonight.” A last kiss and he’s out, with a letter capable of putting an end to his happiness in his pocket, and a rage he will never voice in his throat.

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