I feel so ... tron hurry. I was always squeezée as pressing a lemon hurry to give everything, give everything and everyone as a citrus fruit is strangled with bare hands.
squeezed lemon, that's right, lemon to grow without having time to discover, to learn lemon through the cracks of the press to stay in the common chains, rolling on the black carpet as a supermarket to a future already mapped out the future of one lemon press quickly before it rots to not lose a single drop of his golden youth.
squeezed lemon to ripen and be strong, lemon to know everything, know everything, lemon juice to be beautiful, like a Shiva three thousand arms, three hundred miles an hour in the presser to squeeze lemons have a good situation and be happy and in love ... and can also be sexy with the itchy skin but also attracts, lemon juice in my body compressed, squeezed lemon to love all those who have close, caressed, crushed, pulled all the juice from my heart to lemony citrus.
I was so squeezed lemon I love bitter at the bottom of glass. More juice, more pulp, but a lot of glitches, glitches galore and raw and deep in my lemon acid. I was so squeezed my lemon citric acid became nitrate should be much more to calcine the looks of pressing hurry who think they can bite my zesty crust.
And then you brought you to your face with sugar. Aspartame, but I tasted, I see that's over sham. You replaced my full grain acidity of poetry, scattered all over my lips and then my whole life. You bring yourself back, crystals in his eyes for me to turn into lemonade, you make me see the world with bubbles in the smallest details.
Yet nothing has changed, but the taste is not the same. It is the source that has moved, pH to another, bitter at the base.
I came to say thank you.
Because poetry came into my life and I see the world in pink Sugar Daddy. And all this prose, I collect the pieces and glue together to caramelize all the time I am now.
I came to say goodbye.
For I am now ready to tell the world to launch the crystals in the eye who are listening to sprinkle the top of my microphone that each lemon press too.
