I’m craziest on Cape Cod. I cannot be saved. Pre-existence does not pertain. Inexistence is left over. Doors are left open as raw theism plods on as a main event. Secrets of satire went free of situation and structured sky, complicities (sex for ears).

The you-effects (more structures) become less fearless (less indiscernible) when innocence, dance then acrobatics cross lines and context. Codes of boundaries. Certain crossed lines score from beneath; a hobby becomes a color of late addiction to you.