The vulnerable and maligned muses were not held enough as children on a moonscape of beaks. Ever notice? Certainly I wasn't. Now I have to make excuses for friends of mine buried below their own livelihoods with no heirs.

They’re donning synthetics, and only half familiar, and just too intense, plundering the transport of their ambience. 

Hands up.  
There’s a beyond just passed an easy show of hands 
beyond orgasm overdue an hour ago (one mild altercation took it 
into a shade of de-constraining tease). 

A heyday of hands.