Filing in, filling shacked, blacked, bordered with marks of marble
long rolling laterals, shifted slowly. Arched tension, bridges of
cut iron ten thousand degrees of rotation, torque, flimsy things on
Arbiter, what is this you shout so sonorously. Ponderous. Plodding.
Snipped under lines of sturgeon. Snipped under cannon fire. The sharp
rat tat of flipping wire. Boatswain, what have you done?
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