Shadows on the paper, finest of sun scrambled hair. Nevertheless echoes on the vision, snowflakes on the screen beware. Shadows on the portrait, finest touch ever seen. Nevertheless echoes on the sound, ragamuffins on the green.
Nowhere else to go, no movement ahead or behind. Nevertheless in our mind travel is untroubled, don't you find. Nowhere to settle, no stillness, no rest, no firmament in the fiction. Nevertheless all of this without a sign of outward contradiction.
Nowhere for expression, no outlet, no physical demonstration to see. Nevertheless we could do it if we wanted, couldn't we, couldn't we. Nowhere else to go, no movement above or below. Nevertheless we are here and always and forever or so.
