Guess what, a vibrating rattle in hand
rings all night tumbling out of mind, leaving this hole
open to irresolution,
figure suspended, door ajar.

Once you really had us. I was choked up by your running in and out, nearly in a sidle. I told you we agreed a little but not a lot. The plotting — lackluster — I hope you’re coming back for things you need to follow up, us.