THe gloAming grows finally and Amid sounds, querulous umlauts and diacritical signals. None of this action goes beyond the limits of imaginary. People talk to stillness and stillness nettles while fleece of clouds. And this political climate continues with casual verbs and people who claim to know prepositions. However, no prepositions can exist without willfull deception. Deep wells tell us so. So the mighty exist, as tropes For paradigms. And paradigms exist because someone spoke. The words were in a pool swirling dynamically and extending to sentence. The thought of language starts biscuits a-baking. Propositions poise for pictures. Nature rides natural elastic to the cellar of the trying town. Children remain in vitro till the last very-preposition has rained.
It begins with a scanning of light, a settlement of words. The lightly fracture of Bird sound begins in the office of seeing. Not sentiment but sense, as cool as Green in the Early days. Pasture resists nonpasture, no one Refers to none. All remains including nothing. Morning Is belief and there simply there. Tides go freshly to the point.
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