while and as he mused, shuffling the then, and the there, and the other, and the parts not envisioned in this cascading and tumbling radiant night, and imprinted, forward. yet upon another.
there, but again, gone, was the moment before the shine in his eyes. and the pieces of that breath, of that day, just 'a lazily arranged.
BUT SET.
so to catch another to travel away from these great and consuming collections, which when over-filled would naturally shimmer in sweet vibrance and potent depth.
HE BEGAN.
and he strode. and none-the-falter became his every move, his every passion, his coming to right, a clumped, wadded, and attached fray of the spark before grinding, that would pass when the day became juice, and the night went like paste.
-das landstuhler - 2006
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