When mushrooms dance, only mystery prevails. The sound of earth in dire network returns a useful word. Mushroom spoors deliver delicate shape note song but it remains optional to hear. Even groundlings receive the touch of dark fertile find. Death contracts into a lesson on how business works. Nothing seems so available as spoor built for speed because nothing can be properly spared. Ground resurfaces at the buoyant point of growth, with great mathematics as proof. In swath and rood the spoors engage premium enterprise. Unions have proclamated the hyphae of mycorrhizal fungi joining with plant roots, almost like understanding. To grasp that means that brick there, and some full tilt bosses. In our dream, love has not yet lost.
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