a bowl of one,
cracking words pertain to none.
perhaps the sun,
all over,
into pyramids of one
but still
the bottom eludes into illustrious grain
time never runs out, pour out your debts and go insane
to the ticking madness
you got nothing to lose, nothing to gain
your mouth runs down into a sea of seas
of heeding the thin hide of the you,
a distinguishing cloak.
groups of plasmic magic and the ticking time bombs that yet always seem so stagnant
bearing a star banner of empty truth
Ghostly peripherals all agree
put on your spectacles but be the best you can
Orbs of origin radiate their iridescent lensings
protect the motion cleansing
speculation sunglasses see themselves to varying degrees
This beacon of the sunshine, he's staring at me,
stay calm, stay calm, don't run the faucet just yet,
six billion people,
polite classed exponential
they're selling something
malevolant, benevolant?
stasis?
or just gazes
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