To glide across the floor on selfless feet is pleasure that bright females reckon sure because their beauty constitutes the cure for wearing blocks of reinforced concrete we men adopt as though we were the street and road construction every time we meet.
The ladies somehow know that they have won hard contest with the future by their stance and touching what they tread upon as dance consistent with an elevated sun. No matter what we try to do they've done by silent steps that radiate a glance. Their mastery of unselfconscious place has toppled every tower to the ground and lifted solar circles without sound above the floor's horizon out of space too distant for slow minds to find the space except by spreading rays at sole's rebound.
John Davis Pilkey |