In their jail again I paid for that and of this
by James McLain
and her see through silk pulsating touching her nylons.
But with words freely flowing that only they here when they don't.
Lunch was of shrimp fried in her sweet tasting I bast in that oil.
Bottom button garlic roasted her as she cries I eat mushrooms.
Once basted here comes more yellow rich butter.
Other fine things to I swim with, I can't because you will mention.
Having just been freed they sat all around me.
To hear what I never from my lips to their ears.
Searving raw oysters at the court house her pearls came today.