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- Erotic Poetry
- Refine Your Hustle
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It all became theater. Hand on my hip. Sitting on my doorstep, he yelled into the night. Part of me loves seeing the beasts. This one wasn't spirited enough nor scared enough about losing. By the way, baby, slow your roll and refine your hustle. I heard twice tonight, in echo, that Colt 45's come in only one size. There was the lingering vibe and attempts at making me feel some shame.
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