We may be akin and look atwin, but synonymous we are not for I am the only one ready to flight for day’s win.
Remaining aperch and apeace in a state of vicarious contentment is for the birds–not ready quite to uplift might.
Away from here is a cape I adore, warmed over breezes. Neither stunted siblings nor capeador shall stymie freedom’s pleases.
Let the telegenic remain behind for relays of ventures never ventured. I am asoar toward op’s next door–with avian bull’s-eye centered. ; )
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