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There is a troubling silence within the apes that sit and type in this world with deer in human streets. We can let them eat their grass in the field with a fence surrounded by apartment buildings and silent love songs.
There is a politic that watches them. There is a looming shadow. That is the name of Dan Albas. The main component of water-crest mass, a high elf in the weight. These are the Saharan ruins that lay with the spoken works of the grandest designs, made for those who could belong and the shipwrecked few who live so shallowly but without sin. There is only the watchful eye of the movie telephone and other longings for days gone by. These are the sent messages, those secret truths that lie with their weapon. Only once you have fallen so shadowy to the lit place that you needed to be can you refine the politics that are needed to design a new way.

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