rolling through smells, upstairs ceiling creaks, he’ll sleep now that he’s home, motions
find cyclic-tablets in a row, ducks sit spitting visions of horse-hair onto tables of
mimic, which is which

knife-blade behavior utility require wireless percentages of village-disguises, which is which, instrumentals mint-condition middle-men misty with vanished-riddled mints wishing they’d have pardon, mentionable visits, provide restful night sleep, yet pissed silence

walks in and strangles mangled versions of what happened, finally relaxed enough pale-veil’s ire begins to present misunderstandings, pit-seduced with lint-contamination, the
rivers of which limp inwards towards doom, in view now music, bruised, speaks

of desecration, masts which had sailed entailed towards shores unseen have found their means in a meandering-seam meeting the region with fuel, tattoos, and lasers, snakes crawl greeting rescuers, quieting agents to send signal to the king of their arrival, while they

talk of kind things, innocence, and realities piled on top of piled realities, testifying of a greater depiction then three dimensional apprehension would prefer to admit to defense, slowly over time paradigms change and people gain place along side mythology


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