Simple Theories

Republicans, and plants, have feelings. Rocks, estrogen, testosterone, have feelings. Republicans have a sort of feeling. Tides feel tides as tides. Republicans dash about with the words for feeling. Democrats are cracks in the mantle but feel the name of the mantle. Republicans have ontological motivation, with feeling. Chris was words saying words, brief bright. No Demo-Republicans were easy to hear.

Tears make a conversation between those of us and those of us. There is a gap called life. You are the prime then the number expands to precincts, cities, exactitude of love. No words gulp and slop over the rails of reason, not this brightened day. Trail autumn while Chris has words. Words are our distance and close, both in the net and fret. So the few few few chords and that enjoyment. We meet in the strong and weak words, chords, I love you. Love you love you, many times the instant.

In the spare hope of learning time, arriving to know, the radical in the world is some word left stray. We try the impact and the discussed angle. Bending light plays the tree and rock. A moon of obvious ocean shines until autumn. Autumn becomes the next plant, next stream, next fox in scurry. Today the autumn of fall, gracious just for coolness, shows a transit in the love of today. The town moves us to move.

No secret to red apple, delight is light in the beam. A word will last, word will be a hand. At a pace of colour, thru the seas of sky, remember and remember. This is a day of fresh and autumn, telling colours in the world. All we can have is hands together, hands in the hands of the world.

We will believe certain totals, certain microcosm, certain seas. Each verb in the sky matches a noun of the world. We continue to speak and the speaking is love. The blue trees have moved to dilation of red success in the pioneering way.

The sky shares a simple rain and grey peace of morning news. We join in a gather, tying words to an effort. The sun is a could that looms for moments, some and all. We knew all time in its scent of rolling numbers. It provides a music that rolls a piper chord, mornings all a-bloom. Today is nature even if facts don’t exist. Just a dream of three strings sounded together or even more connection. The dream feeds house sparrows in their launching shrubs. Stand in the floating room, partners, this day, this day.