We say so much in the under. Mirrors are dense like mirrors. Control stands for likely. We have the means. Lines. A chain varies the tension. Now is the time, spoken fruitlessly. Any automatic will do for some people. The polis is leaded. Shadows drive the alongingly narrow. Space is the new pasture, cattle remain current. State is the practice. Sheepishness stoutly denies the lasting. The cheek turns the other. This government after all. If we cannot dream in sentences, just give us a word. Today today today today, like any day tomorrow.
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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