Up, hear the odd calls It may be a burble, or the scatter of animal chatter Press your fingers into tools or bricks forming words While grey, then black, then still skies spool ahead. By J.W.H. Hobb
I found this week how interesting it was seeing another person’s approach to an academic paper. There’s guideline suggestions, a CASP paper at the ready, and the normal read is surveying the terrain.
Mucal membranes block the throat We lose our air and start to choke With regularity, in dark times Full function is hard to find It will pass, or it will not Each wound, bound and unsleeved thought
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