Saturday, January 7, 2023

L. C.

    Little Carol had a pet Lion, because she was a prince. In their Land most toast wasted, meaning the light of the closest star caused days to burn as a candle would.

    Little Carol sits on her stool, longs for a sweet cloud to swell them. Red leather cracks and sweats under her dress.

    Little Carol will begin a Speech in 2 seconds, because this will be the culmination of 200 years of praise-worthy work, under The Green Toad Stool. Lion forever will, in the end, will beside her a brilliant clear throne, in sky . . . 

    Little Carol, in 2 million parsecs, pursues that dayly dream, ex-tends the cool classic, hair and hand. L.C., Lion Cub takes the future, it's belief what we had.


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