Simon Says
Synchronize my exterior to display nothing but superior superlatives, disguising our eyes only after our interiors were certainly sure we did. All is kept silent of which is alienable in open water- never too far off are jaws of intercept inept on all attainable truths spoken for barter.
Demonstrate all the hate, however pastel painted, you retain in lieu of me. It's hostel, raided by youths in fox holes both dying and surviving orthodox souls simultaneously.
Go on. Proceed. Demonstrate how I feigned shy of snared dividends. Short of hilarity as I expected this autumn again.
How you instead casted calls of Amnesty auditioned in clarity. Only to be paired with me, if and only sparingly then. And as such, a pallet of two lonely September symphony blends, colored Splendid into a splendor of animation seeing more suspended.
Heh, the vulgarity was amber, the diva friend, a tint of flavor applauded behind closed doors being orally tested by men. Hurriedly monetized, though not really offended.
So slow, too fast.
Too fixated on photo finishes. Soon out-fielded with photon particles Irish-Blue in blemishes. Two related too mirror in any remembrance. Too sedated. Fears of infinity. Just too 'you' to radiate two cadences capable of atypical symmetry. It is not so. Not sustainable, quite frankly.
Simon says so.
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