That was when rocking impossible. When it was something allowed human, and aloud tho of falling. It is almost holding the elbow of, or honest after kindness. Or not just a zone or treatment. It is a small, a landscape familiar to describing landscape. And the human people recognize the impossible rock. Volcanoes can’t be urgently and human to, and neither can you. Verbs were meant to go faster, like helping hands. Nouns were meant to install that place of being, one hand at a time. It isn’t such a tough road, rutted like nuance. Change lacks fastidiousness, often appealing to death. The approach of help seems fathomable, as far as fathoms seem. It is seen or just seemed, like across a border known for skeptical advances. Undue isolation for status, inquiry, and riposte remains as drag on the arm being held. Being in this together is part of being apart.
The blue part of green sorts fine particles from life, suns, seasons, songs. Yellow excruciates, which is old as hat. The old hat typically fields black, brown, or grey, the basis of eyes. Few listen, meaning becomes crowded. Green makes sound of vitality outspend practice. Economy proves justice machine-made pronto. You may have feelings, moody singularities. You'll notice adjustments to make. What we keep in the green light tomorrow will bear sanctions and bitter tribunals. In the wake of everlasting disappointment a religion of brown errors occludes the determination of weeds. Belief is that simple and crowning. Letters poise for perfect words while Analgesic pathways line with numbness. The transaction that occurs harbors frets yet sunlight falls to the green still leaf. Certain words make uncertain ones.