New Return
Like empty plastic containers. Echo reverberation cold and hollow. The contents gone and an effect of silence from synthetic substance. Don't touch me just let me keep on rolling. Scratches in the smooth milky, grit in gouges and a hole in which to holler.
It's always late with heavy paws and hardened heart. Shell over heat. Blood hot, moist and raw.
Clunk, clack, clatter. Open alley.
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