A Wet Nurse to All Things Pretend

The fog of my imagination rolls in thick as loitering mist. None are able to negotiate terms with this low set cloud. When dependable horizons are excused, the inventions of certainty are wrangled up as nervous traveling mates. Can you feel the slow crawl of billowing inquisition? It turns every heating vent and unlatched window into an art of trespass? Slumbering home owners face interrogation in their dreams. Each blade of grass is sequestered. Time itself is cowed by just one smile flashing across the expanse of everywhere-ness. Hide and seek is not a game that should ever be played opposite the darker hues of ubiquity. They have licked up newly drawn blood speckled against the briar patch. Your iron levels have dropped off precipitously leaving place for spiked anxiety to cover chemical bases it has no business coming near. If I had to call the taste, it would be slotted next to a vintage fear from 09. Catalogue all the most notable head starts from antiquity to present, and you will find they are mangled with panic. Few have made hay of the generous leads granted them. Being fleet of foot turns into heartbreak when origin and destination become interchangeable. I have found you before the decision to run. Once the expenditure of thoughts and cares are lavished upon me, I will requite much quicker than can be anticipated. Present exactly as the fantasy requires. Cast off the thing you were and trade it in for a story that understands your inseam, waistline, and shoulder breadth. It will wear you marvelously. The holes in your conventions are perfect to slip buttons through. Fasten the garment tight and you find a breathable fabric even accommodating than skin. Should you opt for the tatters of reality, simply remember that the nucleolus every hard fact is a wish.