Mary

by ibeamarioh

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Yeah, It’s like that sometimes. Loud smells, quiet lids, containing a mysterious bewilderment, crawling through a slow haze. Atmospheres attach themselves to atoms spliting with kaledescope complexity explained through simple fractals. Dexterous joints clasp and pull, to and fro, in suspicious temptation. Rolled in conglomerate conspiracies, burning like incense; a sweet scent of mellow enebriation.

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