It was winter of elevation, the brew articulated with an effervescent enthusiast as should your sear, those equatorial lines latitude in flavour, a second in sconced rotation, be for you, as is the spectrum, a graceful, abundance to mantle a neutral element: foresight cutters by the storm. On repeat they grew not a lateral alight, for dormant our java script him bitter, by nightfall, the sea rose to regain vitality, longing a vestiture homme, they by his confession. No smaller a sail, set cinnamon from hearts locket, minder the apprehensive vale, those by the winter’s wall, his land dormant, prevails no sail, a vessel to impart another, magnitude of spice; procurement by recourse, breadth for the shallow of billows. It’s candour devouring await, a requisition made found, to cause, see those reapplying the infusion lost, a vale he found their breach, circumspect to dust, ashes there veil, queue they for astern the script, armadas Hellenistic trails.

2021 Adam Blewett ©