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 |   A nothing from nowhere cast his words to a world wide wind, hindered by periphery. |
| The Age Of Repetition never forgetting arthritis Every good boy…sour piano, sing for me? Mind warbling echoes of good boy does fine? A melody once in four-four time, slowing… this…Victoria in my head — etching scratches — Sour as sagging strings, been life-hammered. A good boy was fine, then forgets tempo, hand placement, sheet music lost to the bench? Every good boy sour, warbles, sags, forgets. 3.12.25 Comeuppance for people who punch trees, literally, felt decades later…  T̵̢̝̗̰̪̠̹͗̾̾h̵̥͉̲̠̍̽͛̌͂̆̚ě̸̗͓̱̺̮̣̽͆ Ab̴̦̄̈͐̾̑̚͝s̸͉̻̃͘ě̸̗͓̱̺̮̣̽͆n̴̝͚͎͔̘̰̅ͅcě̸̗͓̱̺̮̣̽͆ o̷͍̥̣̺͋f̶̭̱̘͇͊͋̾̋̄͆ Wa̴͙͓̓̕vě̸̗͓̱̺̮̣̽͆l̵̩̘̯̪͋͒͒̉͒̄ě̸̗͓̱̺̮̣̽͆n̴̝͚͎͔̘̅ͅg̸̫͙̻̭͐͝ț̴̵̢̝̗̰̪̠̹̈́͌͆̑͋͂̅͗̾̾h̵̥͉̲̠̍̽͛̌͂̆̚ Be well, my friends. Stay thy blade.  |
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