Word Salsa #387

Cold front yard. Cruelty was my grandmas’ food to be able to bed!
One only country of murky white silence Of paper fortunes. Six hours of the south offering in a tunnel in the trees: Please save us, Wynn dressed like to wish that golden grain.

Dizquepueta, public bathrooms!

Yo soy tonto.
I belong to drink!

20180517190839

Previous Next

Is this a good poem? Help us find the best of Word Salsa!