ReRites (in a joke called a world)

Refuse to Resuscitate the Smell of blood parted into dark. Nothing true. The other town lives still on its back. Among those crowds the heart (or prayer) withered on the bruised stabilized alterations. The Enemies do Study Me An old lamb, like a bubble, ran as dawn rose terrible over the meadow Among the Gloom of Lonely Paradise in a joke called a world. We rubbed the seven of always because before one older gain Against sodden tamarind mat, Where people know it is barely crowded. Seeds. Wine. Shower, toothpaste. The Place You No we had to be glue to escape the wing and plump open adornment of our mouths