The green tense of summer whale rising smoothed for seconds dipped. The regular call of inferential chlorophyll drew moonscapes of coloured leaves. We are reigning as then that Jerry Garcia song, and the minutes it lived for us.
Phantast, you think weird glitches and synedoche. How have you lit candles, brazen as they seem in wet fire times. You are the portent when the word awakes. You sang over oceans and the regaining sound of fog in morning. Jerry lives in strips of time. I was the first thought of Star Trek, standing on the new fake planet, trying on terminology. Life came quickly.