Bridles
Mirrors have an, the mirror and they, paint as you claimed the room to distinguish a representative arrival. They exhaust their presents, palette the sundial a longitude, upkeep forwarding to the canvas, that place where third were remembrance, lockers and hand me down scarfs. Piecemeal wages gave us aplenty, and permits weren’t always that note, that slip with exchange.
They made it up, as usual, making plans you and i belonged too. First station was listening, then there was my love for a brother, the narrative to Plato, my first alibi, should our wine conspire with the narrative, to many to resume in middling class tourism. Frostbite you had him as the mirror, our conspirator, captive in consumption, mother nearly die of it that year.
Birth was an occurrence on the second day of the rounding longitude, spoke of the cart, mismatched garters to namely your riverbeds, they stand good stead returned. Appearance was to layer him, peeling a insular thought, and you freed those brotherly words, retention were my foremost loss, the room canvassed to the applicable solitude. Stark as reminder, that mirror could reflect it all, fondly devoured. Adam Blewett © …
