Toomagazineperfection - Toomagazineperfection - Tumblr Blog
A liar.
A great-home of leap dynamite.
Her eyes know one should.
A lover is great to the next idea.
How did I get here? To lover her to moon and her lover.
He was penchant craving of my dynasty.
He loved for no one could.
He was.
Her.
First love ink.
Her.
Sunidhi
A liar not crime.
A crime not war.
A war not love.
A love not her.
Not her but lie.
Not lie but dye.
Her style not her psyche.
A lover not her paradise.
A mother not ink.
How is one thing greater than other?
We are zigzag moving on warps of her arena dresses lighting up fuel and war.
Her. Is an understated dress. Hers is a lone sick father telling hums of truths to tell nips of her wisdom, black to back to soil.
Her.
A lie of her.
A night of her.
A leap of her.
A nightly moon of hiss.
A height of the dawn till speed was a share of God.
A light of career girl vying till sweeping knew no cheapskates.
A love, cheap of love.
A loving dark moon, till it poured all of sunshine into his grasp loomed land.
His war till we knew night to be.
Hers till we knew September days with ridden mud.
Her.
Sunidhi
A love so soft.
How you know what is better?
A lover gone right to her heart strings.
Paris lights and French boys livin' with.
Kiss me, concur a moon of the night.
Kill to kiss me, under the swept tiaras.
A queen knew none but rule.
A lover heights and purple ventricles singing to her red-blue artery.
Face, love.
I am a new world of women where she is.
Her.
Sunidhi
A liar in the story.
A deep in the hunger.
A lover to annexe my soil.
A hope to love her whole.
A height to the war.
A war to the new setting, her.
A lone keeper and her faith principle.
Her.
Sunidhi
A liar is he.
A God is he.
A might is he.
Leaves like earth barren soil hitting the ocean.
Loves like lotus blooming in her mud ink flowers.
Her lies are the more, lies to telling her hawk goodbye.
Hers is a sparse reflection of him.
Hers is a God loving her human story.
Her.
Sunidhi
Living for the heights and sit downs.
A world for the week and might for the loop.
Her lies tell me war-cry girls know no home.
A lover of deep holes and a mist of courageous tells, were we?
A lover is night. Night is her.
Tell me she is high high and tell me she sparks a frozen moon to dying. Her.
Sunidhi
A liar in my head.
A God in the war.
A war in the leap lones of God.
Her war is a sudden flower.
A light is a coming deep.
A war is her story living carcass.
Hers is not her feet but love. Her.
Sunidhi
He said my amour lies.
A lover hoops.
A things that was sharp of his.
A move of his boon mites into her lovers.
Have you seen my Clyde?
Has my Bonnie's heart still a fire set in the world?
Is she a loner like me?
Champagne glasses broke to her blood-drunk hiss.
A light of his trust might be the earth of all?
A light of his dare, a corrupt of his face.
Value makes money, carps de diem in her sunken breasts.
Her hearts ware down till sharp eyes knew faiths to turn religious.
Her.
Sunidhi
A lie to mishap lie with.
A morn on the night seeps of red mud sickles.
Her marriage seeps a seed.
A sight of the wise.
A light of the world.
A might of the night and she was the courage of night.
A night sleep colloquium on her speed days.
Her collosal eye was the night of day.
Hers was a burn in the heart fire of his.
He.
She.
Sunidhi
City burns as he speaks.
A lie warps my mouth.
A loom in the speaking lenses of God.
A day that I promised him my hair length of trust in God.
He is the only exception.
His hum sounds like my humdrum laced like her.
A keeper or sadness leaper.
Sour teeth and mask ice cream.
A lover only exception.
He is a lover telling her sin not.
A tight to the leap.
A lie in the morning.
My whisper kinda bruised him.
You are the only exception.
You are. Her lisp kind of ached that day.
Works of Her. Liars of marred reality.
Her.
Sunidhi
I should be someone.
I should become a somebody, who will light me drastically towards me.
Her light and shed moon eyelets towards me.
Her cheap thrust in air becomes warp and soil.
Spill soil off my lips.
Carousel soul of slipped mouths.
Her eyes dart towards a hymn death poet.
Her lips garner lies and sudden bruises.
Her cruises side with buns in my shaw ink.
Her. I love your soul. I lie and peel skin off his lips.
We are the fire purified in the amavasya of her soul-body telling us to stay corrupt.
He rings and etches me like the moon and warps my body ring in a toss of air.
I am his.
His love is all mine to devour.
Him.
Her.
Sunidhi
A love from my bed.
A loose from my shed.
An ear-rape till we become lovers.
Her mist is the blow I know.
I know of her still till we become.
Her lover can wait.
Her.
Her, world of vy dye in her mate.
Hers is the God of her becoming.
Her art of being.
Her height knew me no more.
Her poetry stills in my hiss.
A poet in the warp kingdom of my roses bed.
A lover exists in these reckoned spaces adorned in love.
Rage is reddish mud in her mouth in disguise.
A love mist in the wood lights of her idle.
A revolution from my bed.
Sing to solaces in his head.
High till she is scar and crimson tasting violet blood.
Sally can wait.
Don't look back in anger hums of him. He was there.
Her.
Sunidhi