It’s impossible; there is no shade everyday future as it appears seconds of droplets in a ring-around-a-rose of now nuclear explode as the day levels itself beneath the ceiling; feel each pulse, pulse of the other-one above us, sunlight type of phenomena, no one knows what to call it. Suppose, we call it someone, who is someone, but the other-one above us, when we’re in, you do not know how to do, sunlight. Retrieve infinite spasm waiting between her, help relieve humanity of its deeds before Antarctica; and Iran may wiggle a way out arm clench. We must bare necessity to our chest if there will stand a chance to relinquish difference, distance in a briefcase, these papers all over the stairs.


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