If I knew, I’d tell you

I welcome all types of your weather. You know the reason.
Why do you read if you cannot?
The A team is membered by many an angel.
The only choice left, tonight, is to view the lightning.
I eat from the vine every time.
I pluck all the red I see, and you’ll drink the juice I pour.
Would you have a small cock? Need I ask, little woman? Little man.
Pity is not held, only hidden. Take solace in my atypical subtlety.

Regret me this;  doubt and offset faces, many.
I really should know the way, I want you.
You. Yes, you. But what do I know.
Won’t somebody please just really know?
Just really. I’ll be nice, and make you shake.
Make you be, what we can.
Write, me.

Write me.


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