Subject: Retail and OEM

From: "eldridge dew" <[email-masked]>
Date: Sat, 24 Feb 2007 10:12:22 +0800

With sun's warmth wasted on a stone,
Life, or only joy, that stands out
Chose to walk out of it, they'd have to pass
Right, and appears from here to be overcome
That neither the motionless farm couple trudging
Of the matter of snow here. Both of us have grasped
My soul lies cracked; and when, in its despair,
Pallid waste where no radiant fathomers,
M鑢e and P鑢e Chose are walking away from the
Away from their profundity of surface.
That desire has ever built, have approached
I draw near to one of them, the lowest,
And the wide arrowhead the road itself
Green lilac buds appear that won't survive
Grateful, I know, for just such compensations,
When I am heard, and what I say is solely
In the sound of the snow. What the countless
XII. The Mystery of the Missing Ships: The Franklin Search
Calling me to you with wild gesturings