Even light is a considerable possum, pointy teeth and the exposed waiting till you go away. Dawn light was wider than brilliant, but all could discern a gravel road, which leads to pointing. Grasses are browner, a maple imports colour. When you rise, and it is dawn, and the day is perfect or prefect, then the blue inclusion of this poised sky realizes in us the maximum map. That equation blurs, stemming from precision in analysis, which bores the public, but stand here for a moment. Here is a cyclic endeavour, with sunset spread across a golden maximum. Grecian executed cumulus pump fully into a content-rich implication. Oh, said the poet.
From the thing itself, beyond seasoned aptness. Life is like living but blurred by you were listening. Aspect ratio telemetry in myriad languages smooth as rocks approaches time to look. Words piece together things or things find words. Endlessness is a choice, written big in words as shiny as geese. Words simply take the time in radiation and radical point. Stein wrote the heft of nothing special, start there or whatever. You can slowly adjust the franchise, commodity's inner workings. Subglacial quips, subliminal washouts, frantic azure in the breeze of frosty Friday: these special sparking hallways slyly enjoin. Maybe you read too much into reading too much. Further on is where you’ll stay.
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