The diurnal cascade, as in affixed an in obsidian ash, came those morsels of embedded words. The cricket and the hearth, imposed a garnished winter, the empire withdrew her store, the brief were to subdue a catillist volition, music warmed the cold obsidian pave, locks of fallen frieze, prone the pane of a brittle eon. Swept the door, as a winter could spirit the placement, ornimental like a splinter of poker wood. The cricket and the kettle gave thought to the cascading walls, familiar how they age, the brisk night air. Halcyon her flesh his portrait, the mortar shaking with a lasting breach.

Time shown in the brief contour of Sunflower seed, disarming the obsidian sundial a, fortuitous age, they prey the sonnet, music they word with discontent, harmonious frets and a landlock embellish; Ken Koala conceived the worldly attributes, and combine the theatre, a round of passage. Vincent wrote her another bad-actor on the same day, another graduate wrote to the theatres stage. Embossed the frieze of ‘forward’, embellished the contours of ticket sales, one less actor, rest her curtain. Leaf and vein, should the Sunflower breach her slate of obsidian dust.

The arch moved one tenth, to many a hallowed forefather reached the ocular table, smudged the lines of a incoherent activism, sold seed to the redeeming first hamlet of winter. Sunflowers vast surround, the wail in silence, a commercial made to statute, the export seed, furrowed they a winter of replenish, one tenth the diurnal flower, her seed.

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