The wheelchair will never be reconciled with the landscape. Colors rhyme in correspondance. It eats itself in saying it. False nourishment in composition. In bios or brimy leagues.
Minor modes bubble up the surface.
Freeze into false cadence of solitary snowmen. The conversational gestures are beginning to accrue. Debt to the multinationals. Fever it out, or fugue it. The slippery sidewise cynicisms.