Every day is a beautiful day, we hoped, the scale of windows.
The more we looked, The more it simply wasn’t there
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Every day is a beautiful day, we hoped, the scale of windows.
The more we looked, The more it simply wasn’t there
94
The average spelling of the weather
Craving angles, we found ourselves within a constant lean of curves out of sight horizons if we only walk a little further we walked a horse shoe top to bottom, on its side letting luck from left to right stabilising openings into circles, tangents, two degrees it was a tale of increments the concentration of the parts of each notation on the page what then?
The people kept their heads low, watched the road and kept on walking.
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