Intent aliases, also known as American storax, hazel pine, bilsted, redgum, satin-walnut, star-leaved gum, alligatorwood, or simply. Eminent cheerfulness exuded in sticky symmetry. You have been known to see yellow thru long life moments as well as death in the falling. Anything can be graceful and alight. Chance the scowl of winter in your mind but remember whole moments or just breezes among the leaves. Seasonal panegyric abuse fells trees and folds skies into harsh, heavy mattresses without relent. A turtle will choose to vacate this premise. Forget the furious entropy you were born with. A nation of towns processes secure documents but no readership revives. Leaves that look like stars will almost be science as you see their gathered litter on the ground. Death is just for practice: sweet gum startles in time.
The aliens merged with diastrophism. A rush thru the funnel with Dick Cheney prompts a reply, don't you think? The mud of his glance places real time constancy in jeopardy. We really roll with the punches, tho Cheney's eyes tend to ignite squids. His armpits repine with a patient whoosh that smells like blueberries, eternal boundfulness of Dick Cheney brain. In the meantime, like river flocks, we steal a porch. The utter eye jets of the alien enterprise writes an interregnum. We knit a scarf called socialism, which appears on tv as the gravelly person on that show every night. Cheney hams it up. Secondly, dream manifests in the sunlessness of rectilinear retreat, the storm of space. Driven noises suffuse patents. Claims of Obama become structure. Ideas receive graves. Back in the future, where we crowd the bed with details, a fire starts to smell like blueberries. Blueberries include the idea of porches, and shatter indifferently against chalk lines on sidewalks. The peop...
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