soup

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Grey blob bobbing Soggy glob roundly bouncing, the small wake not disturbing a warm spoon. Escaping soup ghosts beyond the bowl seeking a consensual relationship with a nose, mouth—
The mind, my mind, is a melting pot. I add and add stuff and singing Baggage and things. The pot can only hold so much, Not enough it seems. People dump their stuff inside
Being in my fuzzy nest makes me feel my very best.  With my cat by my head  and three blankets on top, I feel at so at ease, like I've been heaven blessed. Safe from the world,
She swims in the sun The valley is her bowl Her skin eats it up It's food for her soul This summertime soup- A mixture of desire- The bite of summer lovin' That's bound to take her higher
oh demented chicken noodle soup, what has happened to you? your noodles oversized, but you have me mesmerized. dare I add crackers? the employees here are slackers. they put no love in you,
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