177. Irrevocably Unbuttonable
To be given
on the first day of sunset
a sample of rain
is. Twice is
a long time
to be without
an. Alive in
diegesis tho only
a particle of
it. What and
that that remain
unfastenably
so. To struggle
to hold together
what can’t be shut
or. Periods of
intense sleep followed by
extremes
of. Nothing could
be changed even before it
had happened
to. Distilled to
its quintessence and
relished just
as. Any system used
to discover the limits
of whatever used to
be. Conscious but not
conscience in the sense of
paying attention to what was
in. The site of numerous
events of a clandestine and
balletic nature relying
on. To the observers
the tails of the deer were
cautionary and
if. Winds comes cold
in November and
hard through
my. A clicking of
dog’s nails across a floor
and a clock
at. Her purpose
relegated to disdain
continued to
be. Whatever it was
he thought it was
was what he could
do. The surface
of the idea of log and
the way he held the
ax. I wanted
to explain exactly how
it was that
we. Expectations
were gathered and
placed in a receptacle
by. Leafless sycamore
and an equally leafless
sky that
he. The taste of ashes
in his bowl and the
taste of what remains of
me. Bodily she
breathed beside me in
a way that told
us. All those faces
between
all those ears and looking
up. The art of words
as an action and as
a way to say
no.
on the first day of sunset
a sample of rain
is. Twice is
a long time
to be without
an. Alive in
diegesis tho only
a particle of
it. What and
that that remain
unfastenably
so. To struggle
to hold together
what can’t be shut
or. Periods of
intense sleep followed by
extremes
of. Nothing could
be changed even before it
had happened
to. Distilled to
its quintessence and
relished just
as. Any system used
to discover the limits
of whatever used to
be. Conscious but not
conscience in the sense of
paying attention to what was
in. The site of numerous
events of a clandestine and
balletic nature relying
on. To the observers
the tails of the deer were
cautionary and
if. Winds comes cold
in November and
hard through
my. A clicking of
dog’s nails across a floor
and a clock
at. Her purpose
relegated to disdain
continued to
be. Whatever it was
he thought it was
was what he could
do. The surface
of the idea of log and
the way he held the
ax. I wanted
to explain exactly how
it was that
we. Expectations
were gathered and
placed in a receptacle
by. Leafless sycamore
and an equally leafless
sky that
he. The taste of ashes
in his bowl and the
taste of what remains of
me. Bodily she
breathed beside me in
a way that told
us. All those faces
between
all those ears and looking
up. The art of words
as an action and as
a way to say
no.
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