The happy wear no brassard, nor those
with the black dog baying at them.
Internalized emotions blaze inexperienced
deliveries. During the phase it’s advisable
to be wary of moonshine. It hikes the fit.
Falsity obscured in papyrus will singe in
its conflagration. Every deletion has its
erasure dust. Weightlessness is illusory:
guilt is the grief.