Bon d Fault of cupping mate shore slapping you I washed not the g ate s pore the c lam hand your b link I s cored. twenty nubs or thirty knew relief r ash staring at the bub o. yr bucca leer yr. sh rub s ticker p late or s hale dome mounted roughly aftwise seeing you in mirror a small. table heaving over fled a grin a labile hand
John M. Bennett
