A shift in data,
one forward for processing;
a rising generation,
an expunging of excess debris,
a reorganization of retrograde,
"He calleth for Elias!"
the stone of the well,
the silt of the clay,
the water of the wave;
blood of the arteries pump my oxygen,
and let me push out words worth watering.
I read your voice.
Did you ever see the note I left for you?
C'est la vie...
Just another unobserved blip on your radar
[23:30|28.11.011] ©c.thomas.carter
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