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The Battle of HurushiniLong ago, there was a small town called Hurushini. This was an industrial town very well known for their unique lingerie. Every family in the town was very wealthy and possessed large amounts of real estate.
The neighboring town of Horobosu became highly covetous and declared war on Hurushini to gain their land and lingerie factories. Horobosu had an uncommonly athletic army and could easily beat Hurushini because they did not possess an army, being a peaceful grassroots project.
All of the leaders of Hurushini soon heard of this war through their gossip magazines and planned to take action. The Head Honcho at the leading womens nightclothes factory, Low-Quality Industries, devised a plan sure to win the war. He and the bosspersons of the other undergarment mills would pay their employees 2% more dinero to fight in the war. To top this off, any laborer killed in the line of duty would receive a 5-year dental plan.
Fighting soon broke out, a small boy by the name of Josephine went
A Week Of KissesA Week Of Kisses
The first day I told you I loved you,
I imagined kissing your shoulder,
Well before I thought about your lips.
Because I don’t know what I am doing, firstly,
But more importantly,
It’s because I know things can spiral quickly,
If things start shifting
After we lay down the concrete.
So I kiss the foundation,
Before we reach the soil.
The second day I told you I loved you,
I imagined kissing your elbow,
Because it holds together the touch
And the flex.
To exhibit it,
I must kiss the joint that bends
And combines us together.
The third day I told you I loved you,
I lay my lips to your temples,
As I learned about the temple of reform,
For the Youth in North America.
Kissing you there signifying I will protect you,
As well as your temple,
As we re-form, into something more.
The fourth day I told you I loved you,
I’d kiss you softly on your forehead.
Because that’s what holds your brillian
Stranger LoveI am not the sunlit wing-print
splayed out on the bedroom wall.
I am not the dark mass forming
in a corner of an airless hall.
I am not the viscous vengeance
where you sink your spinning wheels.
I am not the leaky bucket
hung up on your wishing well.
You are not my soul mate missing
wandering a winter's night.
You are not the sound of angels
singing by a candle's light.
You are not the rasp of fingers
fumbling with a hasp of steel.
You are not the tattered towel
soaking up the things I feel.
I am the oblivious child,
dancing where the wildflowers are.
You are my unwitting captive
lighting up a jelly jar.
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Bluefley has a gallery filled with artwork that whisks you off in to a Sci-fi daydream, and keeps you captivated for hours. Marc has been a member of our community for over a decade and has achieved nothing but success with his astounding commitment to interacting with the community, sharing a prolific amount of video tutorials and generally being an all round rockstar deviant. It is no joke that we are absolutely delighted to award the Deviousness Award for April 2014 to ... Read More