These hopscotching mere-eager moments of momentary insightfulness, a living artist’s ultimate reprieve – Lies resolutely between the borrowing twists-both-blue-bottle turns

Of his voracious penmanship = to earn it

A panhandler, a socially sacrosanct and predominantly pernickety pariah who dares to care to beneficially beg for some more of the exact same sane thing, perhaps – All of these wrigglesome sentences wrought-iron aligning themselves like pedantic mild-fire

Till jovially-both-joyously setting themselves hearts-apart amid mightily suggestive wild-fire, oh, my..

What, and why!? If we were to forever ferociously create a forlorn and fictitiously inevitable-both-enviable playlist

F

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U

I

T

I

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In all of our authoratative deeds, indeed..

Which gathers the borrowed thoughts meshed miraculously with-in

These posthumorous attempts at over-elongated-both-eagle-eyed hindsight and simply so soon as when

All of its high-falutin aforementioned autocracy starts to begin..

At silkily swimming – Lucratively-both-creatively, justifiably with-in one permitted story-telling swoop of his angrily sophomore, softly-softly spoken eyes – My oh, why, though!!?

Getting to set itself sacrosanct apart and it shall-both-can have to remain rested radiantly and agist and agelessly against

The bewildering welterweight touch-both-taste of his famously infamous gaining again..