Ola Academy — 
It’s a big screen with a smallish but upcoming role. No security or scalability, improvising anyway with few in the backdrop, a differential ambiguity that hangs over the ‘film’ business.  
 
Ghost anthems rise, fall. We’re dragged to their outdoor awards ceremony tho, moist, asleep.  
 
My own moments up for review leave us unseen. My gratitude, clouds of sleeping lovers in waiting — for quickening what I mean and waiting on more running on field in Henleys. And I want to note the Academy encouraged me to try wind surfing in black and white zinc mesh.  
 
In between, this tendency of ours must decide what blank is. Could I redefine it as a pleasant restraint moving onto zealotry to diagram your happiness? Or conceive of a spatial paradox with enough scholarship transference restored, taunting the authentic equipoise of a kiss..