The dark features of King, stones of old vowels. For sure the ape in all reads papers lucklessly, to please King. Verbs stay for losers although semantics would be nice sometimes. King remains the idea, like quadrant. The effort to sincere blanches. King need not hear the news. Tasks seem worthless next to upcharge. Fluff entails magic, pleasing the rent moonbeam. We might as well let King. Constancy smells flaunt. King may blame ticking if language. Uptick is another, looking at basis. Breezy Caribbean monstrance soups up all non-agrarian feelers for fortune. Adorable megatons bring suits of coal, the average land of sundown. Draw from this reading ship King down, crag of vacuum. Or as we always say.
The work becomes chiding of sunlight. The work is elegy and shaded. The principle ciphers as a god, in the way transience is purpose. Transience works this brief, ending fields, making trees concern. The hell of halting midway identifies the work of burning thru. Forever makes a sign. Sign makes worthy. Indeed the tramp of feet forward concludes any sentences but suggests more. Long sentences, stupid words. The caroling heard by Dante, brilliantine remorse for a better tide. The long road up from down, and turned around. The work then becomes the work now, as stained glass similitude. Anxious in the class structure of catastrophe, the baying song over all. Nothing to do but be done. Ruskin gave you papers to remind you. Slow battering concedes the earth in time. Time being functional and oblique. The worker inside sees the nation by exhalation. Transitive connection sports of culture. The class that ends becomes the class that begins, both left and right.
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