By ill luminate the suspect and spectacle of a crowd under that duck blanket the one on the couch the essence of affection is, in fact, with the oldest of us Every distraction falls away eventually for all of us Caught always after in cracks, slipping like the futile cup you attempt to hold well water with Respect and fear play together as they have for ages as peoples of each Holy book, respectively Where are we really living? and is it in years? Can it be held or kept with enough cash? Do you nullify sacrifice with time? Leave it on the porch for the sun to fade