oh well

in gravity there is good claw
the lapse slides lips
around the circumfluence
of the orthograph

the running calculation
runs on alone
beseeching its absent integers

in the heavy
air thin muse
the clever seeds
like photons ignite the need
underwater
their rolls
armor the galls

cone face
cone place
cone inverted to the web
which teases its head
and the literal go out
before their own