Geisha mouse, studio five, demonstrated the very fiscal allowance for eternal youth. Recovery neck ties, instituted the rounding affability, mediocrity contain all the recommendations of existence; fodder the fashion of winter’s sister, letters to the silk road, and Nepal’s cat watch. The catch was my insistence to recommend folly by fail, to rebuild in inherent betrothment, an manufacture the distance they were about to betray. To relive their livelihood, familiar to presenting a future bound by a idolatry, Geisha mouse did not shape to their removal, the very timeline, denying there spectrum of well-being.

The courtship become sanitised to egalitarian welfare, they acknowledged with restraint, production were the very time they had invested in readvising the singularity of a wealth. Their proviso became my existence, swept the pools at the academy, their timeline had been screened in acceptance popcorn, inviting the mediocrity to my symbolic welfare, the war resumed without a locality of response.

The title pages no meaning, those word’s, they read many booklets by the handful, curious names of itemizing studio five; we love the wintery skies, shelter is a kindred spirt, chimera is the baseless fools gold, affirmation on monetarised our selected visionary. Carbon isn’t collected unless warm night airs are priority, shelved the rentals land my responsibility, wagered the homeless manufacturers, a city of intellectual property, resold on the affable table. His insistence of oligarch and chimera, the residing chairperson, guttural to the affirming winter, built the rescue story to rebuild Nepals upkeep.

Those words dissolved my tongue, a word I hadn’t used from spite, my adolescence did not qualify them, the shawls remittent auxiliary, brought the seasons to an end, Winter’s words were to the shallow aging grace. Brothers placing, to the daughter he remember having, a sister to the very sentence you claimed impenetrable, those words wager, resided to, buildings of ‘studio five’, the impending entitles, awash with a love for another historian.

They heavy handed the spider a redback, shale splayed to ground the effervescent purr, those flowers came swollen with silvery cinnamon. Compilation mapped to have love for another placement, the flower, to reside in conversions of temporal eternity, corollary exemplar of a lusty posey, fragments of golden ailment, those prints lasted the game, we were recovery beings of torment.

Cinnamon was reminded to have gifted, in chase of afterthoughts, they ate the ageless shale platter, we drove to the nearest vendor, recalled how our lies did not shape out the silvery wrapper, could only have one, if they awoke. Tasted of gratuitous hunger, the expulsing soldier unarmed his intentions, recollected there were no charge, the night played many unmatched words. They offered after my meagre exposure to alight, gifted them you, seeing the damage of tasting cinnamon, cloves or the rasping plight of interjection. 

The roomy hall, hallowed to entries where I were to protest, winter made by the historians conscription; it had a place forgone, to remote those pending, saturated syringe viable, depressions the paint of decibels felled. The rounding plate contoured those missing years, the kids livery to a heiress, winters solitude to my caressing effervescent cavernous creator, Sanskrit wrote to my prescript, describing to the letters of intent.

2023 Adam Blewett ©