I shall wander into the bleak back yard, and lay on an antique rug, gazing up at the stars and satellites in the sky, the sky in which belongs to very many, yet few take the opportunity to espy it. The moon shines upon us. You shall type away on your typewriter, knowingly. I wish you would stop for a moment. You know too much. That's possibly why i adore you. Take life one beautiful thing at a time, i do not count, as i am not so handsome as the antiques that we browse through. I applied eyeliner to your numinous eyes, and smiled my less so common smile.
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