Obloquy5

Cobalt blue, Catalan man on the edge of petulance and truculence his kettle's black, creeping, such a handsome face his eyes are boiling over, frothing vitriolic charm the turnstile in his pocket is clicking and clicking and the whistle, steaming, screaming louder than the kettle with that cobalt blue face- the spirit never smiles it's the shell that lies. a simulation, a dissimulation, the ambivalent mind harbors no doubt the ambivalence beds in the skin. those soft features, classic beauty it can be so ugly