Don’t undermine the Rites. Unbuckle the child inside, once the boat comes to a stop. Leave the goal to shop behind the time unstopped.

 

We found this world and we know you all now. I crowned that girl that’s the type I am. But is it to cynical to say “I’m only a man?”

What’s left of the show by the time it achieves Manhattan? What’s left to know when you’re long and gone to the garden? Who’s let you go? Who hasn’t?  What’s a life down below?

Insatiable the fire’s desire, so shallow the pike’s peak.  Still skidding, half way to the surface, slippery rocks reflective sun spots, undersock

Climb to upperstand fly to underhand

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