just give me the bat, damnit, and I'll trespass on your pale imagination. watch me watch your face. the evidence is soon in. I am "yes your face"; you are the missing card from fifty-two. we drum our way into the hard part.
someone with a shrill beak sings. we nest where there are hearts. we integrate our stories, until each seems just a fraction of the curve, said the misty-eyed, stay-in-bed dictator our meandra at a time of creed. conform to house rules.
I am only half your father. teach me to endow your batten-down in place of Thackeray. when injurious new robes are worn, must I admit to what they bring? our stamina accounts for why the population speaks ill of our bed.
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