The cavity of the abdomen where words crush themselves

The cavity of the abdomen where words crush themselves to become our digestive ears. They come to blows. They creak. They become a night of broken glass of consciousness. Against your freedom. Against the beauty of speech. Significant iconoclasts emerged from the chaos of evolution. That only take words. Principle of faith in the letter. They broke the painted glass with sublime broken, big eyes, aspiration towards the depths of the high sense. The trees. The tree. Hey you.

Sense, then ex-isto as a hypothesis / thesis.