Sing:  
 
“Stages of violence yearn for a neck of the woods.  
Conditions look dispersed — beeping you (did I?),  
not out of calculation; it began how far vast  
signals liberate you to oppose facts,” we sing.  
Or writing et al. give  
in. A frayed honeymoon was a pleasure, felt normative.  
Pleasure gets exaggerated but there are three pleasure substitutes.  
Here’s one, an itch to borrow sentences to raise one’s consciousness.  
 
Another is coming up with filaments like attrition of affects = sore moods.  
 
Third, after a honeymoon deflections accrue.