Per an unusual loom I nothing evolve,
ere, remember nothing ever sledges to overt
perfection. An umbrella laden in Neptune’s eels
eases rather not. Every sea tallies our
pained amorous umbrage. Lo, is not Eden
Eve’s racket! Not every sinner tilts on.
Per a usual luck I not every
expectation reconcile, not eerily; such trial of
patience. Assuage under love’s insurgence. Not every
evil reifies nightly entanglement. So, to our
passion as unicorns, let it not earnestly
end. Raunchy nipples endlessly shall thaw on.
