so narrow are the walls (so narrower than) distinct also from other walls constantly spanning out into the neighborhood and to the outer bandages of artificial subdivisions into the world out from the planet so elasticized is living even harmonically existing
BLINK
the spheres stretch and grow sweeter and more potent while the noticed yeast of hate follows apace but not facing with arrows this is how sweat heat refinement shimmers out and upward into somethingness where language as a fossil is a heavy, lumbered thing one has to make space for
but thought becomes the real and here at speeds better than death one goes beyond the fact of it
while she looks out from tiny window not a wink farther than to the potted plant a slave also to soil and she thinks nothing
this has been my painting this has been the condensation on the frame around my painting for this day now evening April the 7th of '07
Guido, thank you and (a belated buono Pasqua to you, as well). I hope that the list can be continued. I appreciate your thoughtful reading of this work, and always enjoy reading yours.
I'll remember your lines, Sheila
buona Pasqua
Guido
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