Good Night and Sweet Dreams of the Day

A whispering word is a whispering void cantering over airspace. Clear but unclear. Oh the sheer detectable ideology of the fungal worm. Chitter chatter consume. Consumption is the eruption. And like a fine wine to a palate leaves no bereft anarchical wonderful wound. It leaves only a blemish you see. Wipe away and wield and wield. Surely only in a field is one golden shard shirt obtained through an era of cataclysmic canals. And now the peace of the sound injects and vibrates the atmosphere with simple yet symbolic and symmetrically placed soul speak. And so medicine is delivered to the gatherings at many a synchronization and talking cannot halt the dosage. And idle is the bows that do not shout or shoot. And to interrupt a single layer of brain peanut style is to merely swim backstroke against a myrtle current of which is called time. Collaborative collisions then. Good. Youthful digestive tunnels but as yet no turrets. Bouncing booming boogie bongos. Waves of impassive moods.magically magic majestic morphological moods. Xxxxxx ever since a baa comes an array.........savour not a salt and salute no angel for angel is an angel and anglers waltz in a very highly driven snow. So hahahahaha lumps of pressure means a tyre washing in progress....hahahaha mean not a mingle....hahahaha elevated eon.....hahaha and hohoho honourable hideous hundred xxxxxx inconspicuous..z