As Williams wrote it so it came true.

Blue glass crumbled improperly with paper, the arts that appear to come closer, Words, in truth have no ground upon which to crown. And the lint off the glare of my laptop seems anachronous in the nowhere which abounds. Nothingness that squelches hip hop, its ingested rhyme, poetic justice, and raison d’etre. Stop! Stop making that sound. Find your footing in Iambic balance, which Charity uncondensed understands, eternal time is what Love comprehends and by the strokes of its language, I meant it: Love is the only Medium.

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