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.