I sneaked across gimme erotic catalysts. (I don’t remember whose side porch or how.)

I’ll subsist in attrition finding and picking up water views — a shore in maneuvers pitched way up like township mores w/ infectious provisios, integers-to-be and no buzz to fix.
Waves beat my eyes open when I (am or) was looking ragged but in a studied, not irresponsible way, reading and taking dictation to wrap up sleep.

New slip covers for the porch.