The inscription read you’re my business. This means the writing is clean, the continuity architecturally intact, mirrored in meantimes. 

But calming down, there’s a dual rule of justice gone aground with top notes we won’t erase, some jittery appliance in the occipital lobe, active against the ‘human grain’ when touch management was unleashed.   

I’m just commenting. Your forehead (pre-perpetuity) is boarded up but

the inscription read you’re my business.