Today started out with a morning, so nothing new. Some more fallen snow, still fresh off from the remnant shadows of night. That's where some speak of  a sign, a door, a portal if you will. Either way, whether misread, unrevealed, locked or frozen, its the sliding accidents that will keep making up part of the reason for continued trust upon misguidance. Momentum, though, always first. Like desire placed for constant gravity and acceptance then, as it is. Personal corral of experience. Sights to endless sky.

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