She swam the rising tide jacked up on crack,
she ran the streets bold,
but rest assured her brain bore waves frothed to swelter,
depths passive and less cold,
huge monsoons poured but remain cramped and collared,
sent to bend-up,
pent-up engaged,
ready to race,
steady spent on that dicy climax,
to stroll out grinning,
implode wearing her shine simple,
death will grip her cries,
and I believe a symphony soon will surround her,
soothing surrender sacks her delivered.
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