no llovera por nosotros, todos ni menos asfalto nostalgico en el pueblo del polvo en tus hot pants cuando insinúas y yo no te sigo mágica frustración amor, amor.
For the past week I have had this curious bubble on the roof of my mouth. It's about the size of small lima bean and firm like one, too. I've been flicking at it with the tip of my tongue constantly. This bubble ocuppies so much of my mental energy, it might as well be a uterus, sprouting outside my body.
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