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Taste of the Sea

Through our intentional breath and savory buds constantly retrieving data for our sensorial musings, may we take a moment to love and loathe the tongue.  For all of it's splendor it is the highest note and most formative octave for life and death.  Throughout the day we may experience both of these scapes, from the hearth of our tendons and the loins of our own.

My wish is that my love go so far as to take the breath of you away on your dying, present you an instant installment for afterlife and grant you infinite nourishment, unto your fun slide- the tongue & I may wander, but the lust for one another only remits the hesitation of her innumerable advances of architecture.

That is, to say we can be our very own creators unto our breath and drawn out through our taste-

Beautiful Earth,
today you have given me respite in the tidal sequence of your clouds,
you have trailed unto my trees and given her a fresh supplement for winter,
may the leaves be not bashful in their shedding laire,

Unto her ground give the many hearts a following,
The symphonies that vanquish,
Any and all of the useful,
To the angels she go, to the blades she becomes a near filter.

Don't forget the O's

Have a good body now people, make a trick today for the man in the brown coat.

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