THE SONGS OF WINDY HISS.PART 2

Bearest not i disown this crotchety that aptly cumbersomes a mammoth.Hisses that do by flight of the winds overrules,and what unruly sighs,parched by paragliding vertigos or its palavered parrots of parrot fashion,would i shuffle,that at this sigh the ordured silts of sickening sickos,but pleads to providence that similitude of windy hiss be no more bristled and muzzled to sigh.Hovelling,have i not simulated on this muttering sofa,mussily a silhouette's simulacrum? That silky silica of silks and satins on its miser,wrench hardly they though feasible,thuggish in their gangsteric musks of punchdrunk musketeering,musclebound with murky clouds,where speckled cat dancing dolorously to the songs of windy hiss.And if it be ill-mussy mensrea,where slut as slur slides beneath,how it shuffles the windy hiss,enrobed on its sleazy mantle,from the smirk of this irreverential smirch,wanderest this mussy noon.Ere she had reined and stalled tis smithereen like the archipelago of mustered ilks,to drum heels with her payola