Revelations:
There are fissures and stop gaps where the echoeing half life of impermanence drags its kelp and blue gray tosoe to the empiric guillotine and offers up the Neptune harpsichord for the cold steel jewels hidden deep in the eyes of decaying fish. How many inversions of ink spinning like a bastardized marksman, gills stuffed the with dope of every conceivable saline endorsement. A cactarized hibiscus with a gaping mouth second only to the aching shoulders that cast aside all light. Yes, there is a brackish synnagogue where the arc of the hateful muse has taken to the blood filled lungs of flowers and enabled crysalys to fume and rage between the diabolical vine of leaded refractions so minute in the liturgy that the vacuity alone will bake your noodle and beg you to wander in the cracked fields hidden beyond Aesop's fables.
~S~
There are fissures and stop gaps where the echoeing half life of impermanence drags its kelp and blue gray tosoe to the empiric guillotine and offers up the Neptune harpsichord for the cold steel jewels hidden deep in the eyes of decaying fish. How many inversions of ink spinning like a bastardized marksman, gills stuffed the with dope of every conceivable saline endorsement. A cactarized hibiscus with a gaping mouth second only to the aching shoulders that cast aside all light. Yes, there is a brackish synnagogue where the arc of the hateful muse has taken to the blood filled lungs of flowers and enabled crysalys to fume and rage between the diabolical vine of leaded refractions so minute in the liturgy that the vacuity alone will bake your noodle and beg you to wander in the cracked fields hidden beyond Aesop's fables.
~S~
Books... Oh, I've got lots! Every now and then I try to go through them and just keep the best ones, but I can't do it. They are like little children or pets to me. Each one holds a little part of me in its pages.