there is an angel in a white vinyl raincoat core temperature of the sun steaming, wheezing, through the anti nailbiting parafemme veil the thick fur glowing under silk lapelles. keep that fur nice and shiny, you do.. have.. fur.. don't you..? there's beauty in simply being, breathing, but more in white-hot floods of radiance, and then, it becomes clear again how it resolves into absolutely nothing on nobody and without that the lace is just a shape, today just a joke