Voicing sly resolution and return with gracious intensity, the loon practices where space is. It breeds in downtown north total expanse, with and without qualifying bids. The best voice slides across lake and loon dunks in water too. Smart topic sentences arise on the entrance of space while place names disappear. You should read the words. Loons travel for north but remain right here. Imagine the curiosity (if you can). By yodelling loons claim territory, which you cannot do to any useful effect. Also by circling they map their mote of earth. Gavia immer, northern diver, is the god you think you want to think you always want to need. You may be right.
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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