the stupidest poem ever written about bad teeth
Exactly one second before a coincidence of circumstances, among which was an unpleasant phone call, vizgat trolleybus outside the window and drop points from the table, I dream of you jump on one foot in slow motion bullet-time-to-store "for the mound" to buy pita bread, yogurt with a pink cover, a pack of stickers Euro 96 ', the tape group "Bravo" and the newspaper name.
In the sweet sense then, these things - the embodiment of happiness and tranquility, which develops suddenly after I ripped a sick tooth with arsenic.
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