It was detached numbers and frequencies.
“Pronounce” it

That’s good.
Now draw the strings. OK.
— what do you know!

Mayhem goes off softly
So hard to shovel, soft to fall
White, rose, pale red —

A roving shadow feeling like
A thermometer — legends says,

Crossing senses blood standing’s a fossil orange.
More feeler than hand,

It shakes the nombril ray,

A maneuver on high just dimming the drowned thumb,
A sculpture with a cup on it.