Sunshine state of mind
And a witness bears the falsest of filtering things
No such fruition indeed, dives right in… travesty speaking
Squeaky clean people

Is the cross pollination thanking itself silly inane?

The broken-ended man with a thousandth letter for splintering nails, stale-pace, forlorn tasting

Where, though? Needs to know it… this unbearable type-written over-entitlement meant to meander and mean everything colloquial

Superficially, insanely, suggested and here sits a tethered teabag, lent unpardonably against and covered in dirty dab-ash by way of daftly delinquent mannerisms
A gentle touch or stroke, a sudden blow of thrust

At last, it appears to be, appears to me, that he was most problematically alive in the beginning
Swim, swim, swimming placidly beneath
The puppeteered sinners of theatrically enhanced yesteryear

Even if these plumes of cigarette smoke gave him all of the smoke-screens he ever really needed
Only she brought the real rights of his jaded existence with her

And she’s singularly been trying to paint it back into place ever since

Stage left, alone, and she proceeds to see…
Only plus the interspersed words minus the light of a coloured creation

She has been standing, whilst the rest of us have simply been wriggling, pleading ourselves to listen

Soon as Juliette forgot to put herself back atop the breathing, beating balcony again…
Oh how it still bleeds when they fail to hear her… to be here with me

He sits and shakes a big, sad head at
The alarming undercurrent of his unlit cigarette
And stereotypically starts at drinking lens itself to thinking, thinking… thinking

Ten time too many, is he/she really a masterpiece of metamurmuration only minus the words?

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