bunch munch lunch unchertainly I wander toward you.
Looking for solace
shoes with no solaces
flapping my tongue, pity me,
I'm crying, I'm holding up my arms
like a baby, like a little girl,
though I can stop any time
just like the clouds remove themselves
when the sun says so.
Happiness is liking to feel empty,
like crushes make you happy,
you don't have them, and you like it.
Desire and pleasure unite.
Nothing is bad. All is whole.
And dinner is on the table.
yes! and also love "unchertainly"
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