just a nibit, you know?
It's stall lit takes in times slyke ease,
where you sl-weep yourself back in your chair,
set off a grave flare and stare with an ossuary-glare,
maybe even swerve rare-
-hand eye swhair...
...with the humount of shrewgaze I've shawled myself with over the years
that my brain's sprouted muddied cotton spore ears
similard to that of a 90's punctured hassock
and gauzed in the crèmnants of Kevin Shields' parka jacket...
...but high honed care, so, slow sew dive then:
let's catch the breeze all loafer rugain, with some chimes,
(when you just knead to die...)
butter urm, justab penprick this time