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| from Revival Chuck Stebelton |
Eating seems like a tune to me now. Canned candy calling each other by our names. Strange friend, it is light out. Our perfection gets in the way. Rain is chief among the basket currencies. A managed float stirs stratagem for refining a channel into absorption. The cold frailties and the heartening rivers. Traffic always succumbs. This train is bound. Slowest boat to the antipodes. Helium through glue. The trefoil can testament a crescent moon. The Seventeenth Century which moved by consonants. Stares make scare quotes scarce. An autumnal nose on a Sunday afternoon. They precede us organically. Points map a Dane's clarity. Intuition marks those who wrote about techno, the most nocturnal of all. Detroit swims into his ken. Too hot to move. Your genome has appeal. Along the human armament channel trained. A stellar sea. Tip the bed to thin the beauty. A ruminant with thighs which takes the autological for granted. Dugonidae blossom. A curriculum in wineskin. Venison to be born. Raised as a seasonal in the light of paramecium. Feet on the lotus seen as the seeds of relativity. We were there in the maps. One aspires to the shore. Those who hoped to coax the remainder. The flood came up and the indexes switched. High over our pond the frail snap of a string. Order a breathy request. A tone too deep for peacocks. Twelve minutes with an insect in my hand, being your vatic bird of paradise. Hidden in a narrow vase. Pink is blue rhetoric for fornication. Rigor plays out in the fields. Pain in movement or whips these period. Stuck branches sit and watch poise turn to fig. We hated to internalize the heights. |
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