Samwanades's Ashamori Technique

Even in its lowest coin it kills us to keep love, killed us to give it away. The last time I peeled off my shirt and found a coffee bruise that ran from hip to rest, in two years past before a soul could touch me. A thousand blurs I sure would like meteors down on that sweet spot over Mari Ambrium, where I could make its name over and over. Well I have the moon, I cried, no ship will sink, or woman bleed, but mine loses mine,. But truth told I was terrible, the idiot at the session spoiling it as they say for everyone, oh kings petition me to back it in.