Come, bring us to this hovel. Somewhere the groom enters the bride. Somewhere today said something hopeful about fixity. Bath towel, bible, room key, and if it all runs to nothing, my evidentiary? Women aren’t inhabited figuratively. Say stain and come to bed, say bruise and kneel instead, say rough. Let fall your horrible pleasure. Killed, the spider curls to galaxy. Outside, occlusion/snow/a localized stifling/the day bereft. And cry these dreadful summoners grace? This page is full of theft.