Friday, February 18, 2011
Not Philosophers, but Fretsawyers
In tragedy, a grin, though formed upon the upturned face of the tuxedo-ed dragon, reverberates like a firestorm, not optimistically, shining like the serrated edges of an elongated blade ran between the tree's fibered soul.
Monday, February 7, 2011
The Darkest Coffee Smells the Sweetest
Although he spoke it, I don't believe it to be true.
Auden's picnic, where his downlying gentleman broke his bread and drank wine with a flash of light overhead and unheard: a distance undervalued.
The rain began tapping on top of the hazel wood milk like a kaffeeklatsch and
barking dogs: the Labrador. O, the Labrador.
Auden's picnic, where his downlying gentleman broke his bread and drank wine with a flash of light overhead and unheard: a distance undervalued.
The rain began tapping on top of the hazel wood milk like a kaffeeklatsch and
barking dogs: the Labrador. O, the Labrador.
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