a secular upward trend in vapid glee as flowers their idle sweets exhale, relays love to the fathomed packhorse so-and-so, the bees drowse out, investment peaks and suds of gayer prattle pong from washed-out mouths, the grace of trended variables to be borne not of yourselves, nor yet to tease awry the flat-out frown and all it militates in favour of as wrapped in plastic rags an Afric baby slender as an elf sidles in picturesque sedition, in time to the beat of the fist in your heart which sprung open reveals the grip you achieve on love, as you see fit to lunge at it, timing a gag in the dark %%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%