0x4 : ode to grandma's dildos : again ────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────── roses are red, and grandma is long dead, but the joy brought by her dildos remains fresh in my head. under her bed, i found them tucked away in a box, made of wood and lead, they were masterful cocks. i would take them with me on my journeys to the beach, kept in a pocket for good luck, always within reach. i would pretend they were swords and defeat darth vader, then at night I would shine them and oil them for later. i loved the way they sounded, that crisp genuine *pop*, that is until i forgot them, one day at the bus stop. much like those marvels, i'm just longing to be held, rest in peace grandma's dildos, god i miss the way they smelled. ▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄ ▄▀▄▄▄ ▄▀ ▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▀▀▀▄▄ ▄▀▄▄▄ ▄▀ ▀▀▀▄ █ █ ▄▄▄ █ ▀ █ █ ▄▄▄▄ █ ▄▀ █ ▄▄▄▄▄▄ █ ▄▄▀ ▀▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄█▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄█▀▀▀ 
