When they say you wore your dress wrong, you’d better ask them to behave. Shut them up with an attitude of your setting trends well, instead. Privately bumped into a mistake; The one of joy.

Who told catalogs serve you with instincts? Let me spoil the well set gooey cake with a “never mind”. Covered up with this flaunting height, who never sipped coffee in silence but corralled the crowd into a staring form. As if she knew how to turn heads in collaboration with her anonymous business partners. Dropping into a silence of awkwardness gets you nowhere. I’m flying darling, raised brows talked to the shelf. Frowned from inside she settled her weird untameable rise, adroitly placing a “Hey” on the messed up table. My very generous soul couldn’t resist that pocket free greeting thus sweetening up the sour batter. Layering up attempts, I withheld my mouth going dry. Startled at her melt. Need of a phone password was badly felt.

“I thought, you were tailor with no header.”

Cross boundary, madam.

“What’s in your bag? Friendship or faces?”

Glad you enquired about the later.

“Soft tales with exhales.”

Dear, stale bread gets you pale.

“Philosolphical, enough? Saving this draft? College in an hour.”

Literary effusions your way. Saved.

Her steps collapsed into fumes of disheartened raps.

Next door,

• Winking at the uncanny stock
• A tale is never of goodbye.
• Met her again?
• Yeah, in my gay dreams.

Formatting the gales of abruptness, pin your textured unaligned access.

Who told girls don’t have fun? Soaking links under the sun.