ashtray breathing has never seemed so vain, but even rouging collars seems futile with this new insight, excommunicable axehand bastets will be the few with sterile gait, with the latter understood, the former makes for a rosen ambulance..

and the doctors, they all push the tray face down, "ignore the scalpels, patient, we only want what people will pay to see.."

anatomic synthesis, onbeat, offbeat, onbreathe off, lectures are examples of the wisdoms of whispers, the more everything everyone knows, the less anything might ever matter, tender practices for tender children, courtship flagpoles for misinforming villains..

and the lovers, they all push the truths face down, "forget the poems, sweetie, i only want what my friends will pay to see.."

water the sunflowers, for i didn't see the moon last night.