getting feckless with my words, now, it's ten until two. divided into three, segment i agree on your beauty, drugged into brevity and walked away. a quick look in seven or eight wrong directions, the wrong smile, having been misplaced in nearsightedness. dark and beachy, a sleepy confession toasted, one and two sets of twins, i manifested a double, know it's really you, and both of yous knows it too.