I decompose less rationale pledges, and I wonder about their trimming style, but her outliers characterize the mood of this architecture, and I force empathy onto wrinkly parts of the stranger’s mind game, yet I confide with future rebels, while they scrub accidents out of view, and I pump iron, and I donate mirrors, but I cannot seem to partition the universe in an obsessively accurate way, and I am humbled by the myriad proportionated shapes of these walking ambitious bodies, but I contemplate deprivation, and I leave enlightenment behind for the sake of master dialects regarding pyramid building atmospheres, yet I fix rips in wardrobe, and I hurry with implementing entertainers for my afternoons, but I post imaginary signs in judge filled elevators, and I honor reclusive pathology.
I twirl around impossible vulgarities, and I go for commercialized uppers at dusk, but her snug fitting tapered jeans give out rambunctious entertainment for no additional charge, and I digress into plain intellectual ornaments that work best on 1950’s living room mantels, but I will probably rebound into a convincing duplicate of sanity, and I may not fight it anymore.
I pierce flaws into make believe sails, and I remit her quietly, while kinder establishments take my darkness gratefully, but context will mangle probability, and I gift wrap opportunities for slightly known emergence, yet she bombards my ego with venomous methodologies regarding how to fly in these cordial times, and I order extra harassment with my requests for mercy, while frightening dilated eyes come near without apparent reason, but I caress the mad scene of our own doing that will never happen, yet I wash floors, and keyboarding metacarpal bones go quickly under stress, while I think I’m behaving in accordance with the laws of this room, but I discover a blushing announcer, and she doesn’t notice me, while I fabricate new anxieties to preoccupy these hours, and I reconsider my stance against organized priesthood, but scores appear to be trending upward, and I take cover in urgency, while those jubilees stay in pulsation.
I plagiarize mottos, and I quit sexuality for awhile, but they find less notions to halt the rapid duplication of tomorrow, while couch upholstery launches me into a hallucinogenic frenzy, and mucous drenched tunnels represent my afternoon, but she prances gracefully, and I point towards new masterpieces while a dream maestro taps our proverbial shoulder to issue warnings about the flood, yet I keep suiting up in this absurd uniform, and epitaphs relish in being aloof to perfection while another vacancy goes on faithfully with the original plan.
I allow bloated repetition to pervade in secondary worlds, and her merry lines convince the founders, but I nominate insertion for later scenes, yet armor flakes off while patrons evacuate this bias about rightful ownership, and I drug my arrogance, but she pleads with explicit corollaries that grasp at universality, and I shut creaky entrances.
I turn channels to suit the anticipated wants of a context, but those extinguishers never get maintained enough to be effective, regardless of the detailed lists, and I enrich the colors of traffic through my intestines, while pilots yank on conduits to mechanical government, and I view her in an evacuated tree fort immediately after a storm, yet camera batteries always recharge successfully, and manic politicians could take the reigns, but my water will taste like yesterday, and she hones contractual folly, and I discover more erroneous replication of our imaginary grandeur, yet a subterranean vehicle is exactly on point, and childhood board game objectives have taken us here, while door jamb sizes limit refrigerator capacities, and I may like grooves, but the other author inside me runs their own business, and I set an alarm to crank on a mysterious wheel that is tied into nobody, but paper comes by regularly, and I instigate ratios for application, while determining otherwise cautionary tales as perfectly legitimate.
I reside in a lofty version of antiquated hope, but I still have freshly brewed uppers nearby, while masks talk about entropic diagnoses, and her pricking way of mapping a room on foot startles my unconscious yearnings that were previously left to their dormancy, yet when joy assimilates with power into a univocal instance of marvelous catastrophe, I will note the frequency, but delete their ethics, and I rethink brain wagers, while she ignores my voyeuristic apprehension of her, that I conduct from below, and I invent sanctuaries, and I move, but oversized industrial bondage owns my notion of free will, and I meagerly attempt to dodge the surveilling prescriptions, which are uninvited guests to our scheme of remaining in foreplay with cast off thresholds between normality and it opponents, but I rest once again.