The sides of Hospital drew up. Hurting forfend, a crusade of sorts with best bruises and taints. Distinction inwits between presence and present, each moment makes gosh. The safety of gospel flourishes with rhyme while each fact of word provides the safety of shadow. Citadel walls now tell the story with farcical impact. Every tower in sight makes a millennium as human as dirt. Meanwhile, family encourages a degree of sanctity until love engages property. Separate hordes take control of the desert, eating the pledges they made. Final rich towers include the man, the one, the woman, the one, and every fusty enumeration of colic. Another Hospital naturally appends an appeal. Sand will soak it up, tribes will unmask. There could be a map, a place, where the light begins. That speck of love purchases endowment tho the surety erupts with cyclical vigour. Imagine sultans without shoes and knights with testament. A sure kindness must exist in between the radiating sentences. At least that assumption can fly, over the darn walls and into the sea. The seas grow moist just thinking of us. Today we can assume the piety of class with little scribbles and an upset freight. Hordes will meet hordes with vacuity, inside the outside of words. And now, my love, and now.
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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