We eventually added the addition

Onlookers to this motion--we are speechless--reliving life's episodes
In text. It's hard to tell, from this message, where the whale begins,
The faint welt of first meeting, the fragrance of flowers, or whether
You are well, and perish waiting. At the offering table, with concrete risers,

Texting to tell this message at an intersection or interstate, it begins.
Today is very clear with fingers on the keys. When you're driving around Silver Lake you could well perish with the offerings, on risers Of minimal concrete. Meanwhile, lush, violet-toned voices are what we have in mind.

Today is clearly what matter is most--conveyed in acronym--around
Letting the banality drive interpretation, in the most acerbic way

Allowed. Cut off by the keys. In kind, our house is made, and raises The bedding in question. We shore up to the print for the occasion.

And you thought it was just a phone. Once the province of an acerbic Waif recoiling in the kitchen. Now, we treat the subject with the runes
Of modern technology, who is sacrificed with rawness, occasional
Immediacy, each for individual versions of the clay tablet. Speaking,

Shall we toggle Greek and Latin letters with the runes, apostrophes? Into the wall she was before texts. What we said among us is artifact.

I write to look. What am I feeling, and a tentacle of neatly gardened bungalows speak
For me up from the abyss, and I am still on the hunt for plants to accent the scheme

Afforded solely by the imagination. Destined to be apart, writing now, the artifacts
Where we practiced our music, read our books--where the flowers endured the weather
Perennially softening the abyss bottom--where the scheme seems to find us, accented--

As onlookers to the motion, there so many speeches for the lost episodes of life.