Word Salsa #945

Y me. I wanna answer and solemnly in his own conflicted first!
Anna is not a bubble in half an orphan, he looked embarrassed by our speech & bone marrow of you can measure success by the stuff done so far from the Zetas supply consumer-demanded yields with cowboy boots. This is a crowd an aged viejita vestida con la frente a piece or garlic so, vengase, movimiento, y nos separa un pueblo sencillo una estrella.

The boys and glass of shit to send the sister’s brain to struggle within you it.

and between chatter of my food in a manchar su obra, dan gran espejo.

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This poem has 1 thumb up with 1 vote. There are 110 poems with the same rating, 98 better poems, and 190 worse ones.

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