can't you see beyond the
comfort of the cushions? it's not just
concrete; the leather of the couch is
corrupt. without the feeling of your weight
combined with the blossoms of air molecules;
carbon and oxygen all desiring to be against,
caressing your skin like the seat beneath you,
chaos rages in the heart of hearts of the beast you rest on.
careful, this isn't quite as the words make it seem:
control but yourself and the messenger will never
care to make it through.
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