The rings of Saturn after burn,
rotation turn. Searching for creation, devastation the calibration of alpha
omega. Placement, stench east side the bricks. Clicks; cocks spits. Pulpits the
ditch; sewed up tight, blanket stitch. Hummed in perfect pitch; run, half cross
switch; vexed you, bewitched. Holy Ghost; lift hit the toggle switch hit them
with a rolling hitch; and up they wound till they reached the ditch, were at
all stopped one, a witch. I’m through with that shit; quick.
That damned ship lurched and
slithered quick. Infinite; I am his instrument; flesh, relinquish. Grace
achieve it. Soul; lifted, scientific rhetoric explicit bullshit. Understanding
it will cause you to lose your mind. Lost in time and space; slave to one.
Above him: none. Father and son, in the
long run: Running carrying the banner; to Saturn the rings of Saturn, after
burn, rotation; turn searching for creation.
Blackhemmingway~2014π
©

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