by Jason Alan
The first sentence molds fingers around the back of your neck, seizing you forward with incontrovertible force. The second sentence slows the heart, beguiling it to flirt with the icy depths of absolute zero. The third sentence flows with a delightful, lethargic passion of no equal. The fifth sentence is a non sequitur, ignoring the fourth sentence altogether. The sixth sentence slithers seven silly snakes to satiate the synonyms that stay inside. The seventh sentence slays the snakes and starts all over again. The eighth sentence exerts its pressure upon your chest, denying you, pushing you away, rejecting you for all that you are. the ninth sentence grammar rules ignore its rebellious spirit forgoing commas punctuation structure rules becoming its thing of own because it can The tenth sentence takes solace in the tenth street train station, trying solidarity with truthful simplicity and trepidatious song.