Open skies enveloped to the defiant speculation, rewrote myself writing the instant flavours, they were distilled by volume, conveyed to the pram, bottled water was no antidote, was the chocolate in the chocoholics memoirs, defiant enterprises to grieve with the fictional pendent. Even contemplation were a distant renewal, survived not surveying the implications, restitution had neither variance or solitude to a sunset of the starry nights.

The makers mend ended with the store of non affiliation, brokered the impending gifts, sleaved the middle minding with watered hydration, wrote poetry to her body of thoughts. The vessels vessel, made redundant by those happily dinning without solitude, discard the body with infamy, or renewal for the soul they kept to their chalice, the tables were unanswerable, drifting with prime numbers, never to amend the embodiment of restoration.

Perfection was defending those imperfect cry’s, they hear not the consummating world in fear of recognition, the starry nights of an endless year. They celebrated cultural discourse, pleasant of course, making sense of mending a latch to close without remittance, the wealthy artist in residence of compiling a lover, the love of lacing acceptance without embedding to the bereft.

2023 Adam Blewett ©