Naomi Scully

p.Rose JAN 31 2018 BY P.ROSE RHO(DOT)ROSE I want to write and essay “Light the poem”—day three:: THAT SCALABLE FUNCTION:: The cube is concentric volumes… And it speaks to Hallelujah. I will not give in. To the heart that speaks of sins. Beyond the paradise of product lines, we juxtapose a mother set of rhymes. Possible. A trace is made between the fields. A function of discrete appeal. My filter dreams are structured why? For pursuit of scenes and substance gone by. Old is new is old is new is old. What of the historic mode? It took sensations into“Naomi Scully”

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