wl flies with all the grace of eating mice and barfing bones. Owls fly with the Susurration of the elite, with inhuman shadows as context. Yourshadow casts a smell: you don't pass unnoticed. Your average owl goes beyond average, and is upbeat and diurnal. You have nightmares of clownish pause. Still, some owls seep into night with death sounds. Or poems, who's to say? The calls vary, sometimes mournful, sometimes screechy, as delicately human as that. Owls notably look in windows and their heads spin wickedly. They see shadows move like shadows. They enjoy shades of air and silence, quicker than any bunny. Stratum interweave and conveyances differ. The owl scouts with nerve endings and quiet abeying. They live in trees full as mansions. Their sighs fund elegiac plenty and spree, with Bo Diddley beat assembling.
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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