Sunday

you came there over the wheel

Machines of revision. Mask of _ not the amble beep or the bend of vale and whiff of currant. Revision machines. cut over fold. drapery of cough. You seek steel . In.

Jill's tail of a comet! imagine this auditorium where gawking up into star light affairs of heaven's weird firmanent hearing laughter language bending into the word guessed her elbows, and gleamed bronze hair. Is that possible? not only possible she baby, but likely.