Somebody who is hooked on the color red

is just coming into your blue room
which ruins another person's life.

You can get right off the hook.

To put out his own scare you have a child. Enough of these goings.

You'll proliferate now, thoughts misbegotten to strike through
every face truly. People whom you are.

Getting on with this blank, are you saying
one should follow  when the position comes? Etcetera. Etcetera.

I think that door is closed.

If only he didn't close. You shouldn't waste metric time.


The mental passage is somewhat over. That will occur to you
strongly. Nobody's knocking.

Alternate head of steam. A tap dance might be, possibly, another route.

How do you say "Bring in folks," "One guy," "Breakthrough."
We all go up and everybody
gets his limit and his hope. Your empty page needs
voices and very little to do, where you stand off-base, forming various whites from the window.

(Females who have never lived a female life, when in fact they need two.)

What you'll refer to. A dream of separate rooms.
The red room. The blue room.

You're in the present. That little place opens when you drop inside. Your fresh start.

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