Light is a carriage, and it carries the Long Knives into the place of exclusion. Years of trials, culling the land of interdiction, then straining. Life is filled with boundary. We called them, with fiend of word, into a forest. Forest delivers the coin, which is nation. The implicit saturation becomes distorted as monolith stands. Each fort feels strickened, because people. People then said, with a lighting of trees. Trees are peopled. Everyone stopped to haul, but it was not time. Music slowed as George Rogers Clark led a slog. The marsh was deep water to walk. Do we pretend to be there? This is the electric stream around nation.
jagged resemblance to truth floridly spring flowers pang rock crusted ontological squat serious stubborn box conclusion peppered trail pending slower overage undone of starting on It's a holy war royal ooze Stoop Herd Toxic tocsin I’ll oil decline wall burn bum burn bum
Comments