October sparkles inside the cranium. It’s thousands of
starbursts per hour, its almost infinitesimal offer of life. Satellites of acid
and sugar beacon across its firmament, the speed of wine, the re-entry of a
headache. Unseen by mortal eyes, though what is the universe itself but
everything the brain translates through sight? Daytime is the right time for
constellations to light up. OMG the conversation is champagne, every bubble a
floating syllable in deep space. Obversely oddly October twinkles at night
inside the cranium. Its gorgeous darkened senses remember colour. Our caravans
of peopled reality go dreamy with ill-fitting stars.
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