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Low Impact Fat Burning Workout

Your turn, and this implies you

By bishnu prasadPublished about a year ago 1 min read
Low Impact Fat Burning Workout
Photo by bruce mars on Unsplash

How can one become the cojones to commend a Fudgsicle?

I'll tell you, and won't start by referencing lattices forsooth.

The things on the register are components enigmatic, yes.

However, they influence in the bent over air with a feeling of clarity,

A sort of gong influence that chiggers as it bulldozes forward,

Evaluations for unchintziest bling. Time for an ocean change.

Your turn, and this implies you

Accompany me. Pleasant and quiet, similar to the first

Doppelgänger, or as we in my area called it

The Doppler Radar.

On school mornings, a trust store in my teeth,

High yacht vanilla gulped my folks' bed.

I would be numerous and precise.

From that vantage, a windpipe delivered

On undetectable horseback to the debilitated kid's bed.

I'm certain you can't exactly envision it, coal

In the dark-striped cat hall. Yet, I could. I captured it.

Gershwin and American Carriers and I could continuously

Tell the voice without the face, God's gift to me

For being weak in apathetic tissue. O parabola.

Check the ashtrays out! They are right there. Swinging, bothering,

Sea rough, a glove of controllers,

Paint supplies generally piled up with no place to go

Toward the side of a grave sickness — like pink paint.

This estimate of centenarians in Florida, and Burbank.

For my entire life I needed a fractal tie and strawberry cover.

Presently I'm a Congregation woman, no touch of joint condition.

My name isn't Sallie or Mae, it's Sallie Mae.

A large number of minuscule pendants, Waterford precious stone, gurgling

From nearby tree-stronghold where young men grab each other.

Will you accompany me for Pilates at Stronghold Ticonderoga?

Denise Austin is here. Stretch in the sun.

Champagne woods, lakes gorges, gets off.

Then you say: You have no clue about what I survived.

The Green Mountain Young men resembled a second father to me.

performance poetryhow toheartbreakfact or fiction

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