A delicious breakfast with Turkish coffee and cardamom to open your eyes and missalize , rocket your day down the beach in line skating with sand dollars made into mobile chimes that make music in the surf.
A spice to waken salty eyes, I need - then outline a beach with my feet. I find me. A penny cost a thought, though a trace of painted dollars lights doors I’ve never seen. What goes on the inside that egg! 💡 As I wander through a scattered floor, I look back for parts of me I want to bring. 🌞
Juliette you are my favorite newly found midnight missile and I just subscribed. But I have to catch up to speed read or flash footage of your acts that make for a wonderful wake up call to entice me backstage to wait for the sun to rise.
Well then, Queen Missile I shall be 🥰 Welcome, and thank you till times end. Fruit waffle season peaks with my cinnamon peach masterpiece - caramelized by juice drizzled ends sizzling every square. How far can I fair on a waffle? - three miles of beach push sand between feet, though sand dollar hoarder I be no more: an opinion left to interpretation.
A new post is nearly ready, so stay tuned and thank you for joining me! I’ll dig up your substack too, just waking in the wee hours briefly for now. - Monday cheers!!! ✨🧚♀️✨ Lovely to meet you here!
"Camera focused toward the fork, showing the thin drip of syrup catching the light and hitting the waffle piece." I love these small vivid details. Now you have me craving waffles! And a sexy chewer. I can't wait to hear how your adventures with matchmaking unfold.
The waffle hidden under arranged fruit is my specialty (gluten free for me), an occasional treat for a breakfast after sleep or greeting light from last night. Packed away with the keepers, my next waffle will be somewhere new. And of course, either on my own or in the presence of a sexy chewer. I’ll never settle for anything less than the rare find of a “Tesson.”
Distraction abounds, though matchmaking brings to mind a warmth of possibility into fruition, and the thought of view under that light. My mother says “not unless he goes over the moon,” or according to CoCo the chihuahua “digs under the gate.” For now, I continue to pack, a box a day, and celebrate my birthday.
Thank you so much for reading and encouraging me in something I already enjoy. ❤️
A delicious breakfast with Turkish coffee and cardamom to open your eyes and missalize , rocket your day down the beach in line skating with sand dollars made into mobile chimes that make music in the surf.
A spice to waken salty eyes, I need - then outline a beach with my feet. I find me. A penny cost a thought, though a trace of painted dollars lights doors I’ve never seen. What goes on the inside that egg! 💡 As I wander through a scattered floor, I look back for parts of me I want to bring. 🌞
Waffles, eggs , fruit syrups would be my choice with oatmeal and raisins and almond milk.
Juliette you are my favorite newly found midnight missile and I just subscribed. But I have to catch up to speed read or flash footage of your acts that make for a wonderful wake up call to entice me backstage to wait for the sun to rise.
Well then, Queen Missile I shall be 🥰 Welcome, and thank you till times end. Fruit waffle season peaks with my cinnamon peach masterpiece - caramelized by juice drizzled ends sizzling every square. How far can I fair on a waffle? - three miles of beach push sand between feet, though sand dollar hoarder I be no more: an opinion left to interpretation.
A new post is nearly ready, so stay tuned and thank you for joining me! I’ll dig up your substack too, just waking in the wee hours briefly for now. - Monday cheers!!! ✨🧚♀️✨ Lovely to meet you here!
"Camera focused toward the fork, showing the thin drip of syrup catching the light and hitting the waffle piece." I love these small vivid details. Now you have me craving waffles! And a sexy chewer. I can't wait to hear how your adventures with matchmaking unfold.
The waffle hidden under arranged fruit is my specialty (gluten free for me), an occasional treat for a breakfast after sleep or greeting light from last night. Packed away with the keepers, my next waffle will be somewhere new. And of course, either on my own or in the presence of a sexy chewer. I’ll never settle for anything less than the rare find of a “Tesson.”
Distraction abounds, though matchmaking brings to mind a warmth of possibility into fruition, and the thought of view under that light. My mother says “not unless he goes over the moon,” or according to CoCo the chihuahua “digs under the gate.” For now, I continue to pack, a box a day, and celebrate my birthday.
Thank you so much for reading and encouraging me in something I already enjoy. ❤️