All of this can be brave See my insides growling Tone-matching future choices, Praises, and prides roaring See vulnerabilities trading Ourselves to us as investing quiet With marrow for sweetening fruits Lochs of juice runneth over cups On hearts' timpani tilling soil For this hen of your sight Pecking your gaze with its wiles Hunger going tidally high All assemblage and examination required For blessed first blush to track into some kind of life Thinking together beyond the sleeping; missing trains ![[Alexandre-Cabanel_The-Fallen-Angel-1847.jpg##bgimg]]