An organizing force under command matures into familiar splashes of
anesthesia: Takes my place being places (an event in tropes) —

Meantime, ping. We’re here for discovery via inflection in lap pools of
condensed matter from excursions to aquatic worlds.
The named oceans are dated, right, left
Pouting, getting better! When they come to — there will be perorations re-
framing rainwater within fairer scents rimming sunlight in suspension, ripped,

Amputated chutes!

Grape vines burst out, nonlackluster. Though I love grime, the force’s guilt-
making — carrying me thru, unphased: Guilt does this to deplete me of hope.

1st choice for a sonnet is to solve for x. Be funny and coalesce.

Dear multiple choices from eternity: Send a message I can wolf down. Convey
a sense of urgency that’s superfluous. Then put off all force.