Noble Liar

That itch beneath the throb moves from under the skin to make my arms do the job until will gets locked within as drugs delay the sob choked behind the grin. The chameleon, with such charm to bend a shapely curve, hides-away potential harm when pinned by panicked nerve since terror transforms the farm so eyes trained on ground won’t swerve. We get compelled to nab political dissidents to lock them in this slab for various incidents. They teach us well how to stab since guilt proves no coincidence.