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.
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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