Firewall, a king wanting sleep. A foot of sleet, mush, your estimate 
From the royal window.. pane..  
 
Nothing concentrates like a.m. rulings on Nordic weekends and a palatable wardrobe.  

I believe in you. Evening you’re distingué. 
You give me a musical temperature, a fine spray marvel. 
We’ve discovered squeezing brings up more meta-activity as superstitions based on fact —  Blasts of selecting fast, out of nowhere.. nowhere near here. Not even now.
We reach back to no self, only others.