a poem for today, 13 November 2012
[a syllable sorted sonnet of seven sentences and its image]
A woman's body is like a big pleasure puzzle to be solved.
The main purpose of such a game is to make the player feel for the characters and make them cry due to emotional scenarios which serves to leave a bigger impact on the player after the game is over.
This isn't a gift.
This is a point on a line drawn in whipped cream on your booty.
It's not happening.
Plan accordingly.
The trouble is, I've always had to think about eating ice cream as a "cheat day" thing or it would get out of control.
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