“Bliss.” We were looking it up. 
A battle between two acumens  
 
bringing up a few others,  
times two more of those brain states from euphoria.  
A marsh is now interesting  
(vitae) for the sea. To the eye, in sun nothing but applesauce shellac,  
a varnish the sea brought in without consent, leader of the pack  
in subject matter. Not on varnish, on bliss.