Drifting to the filtered sound of coffee, i situate or exhale as time where receiving in quite to the bodiless ocean, a sanguine alone for confining automation. The lull to remember of her asking appearance, seemed less important, then to question in autofil, for as many a chance, should I forget not her beautiful eyes, and the aromatic sound decreased. Weighed to the recline, tulips alone and refilling the trace to reapply a buoyant heart, you’re not my maple sky. I sit alone to resist the enveloping trade of recounting to oppose equated sipping, to recommend with aromatic and softly clatter, an exchange of wistful love, recounting to the question of maple, to tame, i restate a second fill.

2020 Adam Blewett ©