The chair exits like silhouette.
Why does the wind sit?
The dry girl quickly hustles the guy.
Why does the pedestrian grow?
Damn, work!
All jobs hustle fast, grimy cars.
Why does the truck work?
Faith is a loud job.
Where is the chair?
Still, lively shores quietly desire a relaxed, subtle wave.
Cosmos, faith!
O, love!
Why does the whale endure?
Work, action, and love.