trains run, sea soared, road roared mountains.
danced sailors, for meee...
hawk might see rivers...
but I never did wonder how I got placed in something withering...
lingering in time, when you combine the ribbons that have been cut.
Upward angles at the poem, to many eyes glued, googly.
Live show, the limited raven heads chirp chiropractor sipping corn wine.
a man slipping on the time, reels show you in reverse.
Tell me more about your interview, close the shot with faded creams, white powder and a fake shark smile................................................................................................
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