What are you in for,cybercriminal? Hacking the sun? Freaking a planet? Technomurder? No. A century ago I told a man to kiss me on the peanus

Freedom spiked breezes	The mouth in gentle mockery of itself	the new depth, here found in the afternoon breeze	her ardent eyebrows are charcoal scimitars taut above eyes that breeze like open windows
I guess that I am the one who has changed	This must be the night when I remember how to fly, when the breeze catches my weight at last	Twitter	Freaking