taken like glitter is taken, by mistake surplus beauty which, adheasing to most every surface, once you let go just goes; industry springing up inside time and history. Bye gash hacked open by your own vitality, useless beauty whom industry springs up around, goodbye language, or hello.
Dear paragon program disappointing to no end. What velocity curtailed your belief? What memory kicked out, tassel taloned? Your cravat shows, I thought. Dear one. No one.
Stretch a swath of saturnine afternoon across the season's memory. Disappear into the predictable industrial morning. Take out every single labor and polish it dutifully. Smash the glass. Bigger, please. You are carefully surviving what needs to be destroyed. I need you to language otherwise.