am i laying ratios like pavement or are the lays paving my bias? you creep beneath covers whether epidermis or down-filled instead of down-laden high-trodden blades rough with coming a glinting hydrophonic lens, is flair, is is magazine edge follow it to slow retreat falter the cure for your hunger luring temporary massaged ficitons too tender to clutch trope slithers all colours melt into sterile tug a new lease on sensual, savour and shudder to chug, to sigh, to black out yelp punches through, corrupts the flive to twiddle the sixth depreciates not but swells betwixt each painfully quick moment in worship, while my heaven, somehow with you forever unspent, drips