|fig. a) vera wang, vera wang|
It's possible that we've played here before. Like the Inventionist-Kid in the Iventionist-Boat with all of those Inventionist-Islands by the score. Possible, me in a dark room and the mist of the vale. The torn sheet and the lavender host that lost her way. I recall your dance. You were the spitting image of my son. My possibility being most accurate for the making of unmade duck by way of bury the squirrel. It's what I do. It's what I'm doing now. Liquored and holding, that great-twine promise to send... List List List away all.