The secretion of candlelight. Dry hall steps. Solid brown bag existence. Fern tetanus. Hanging up the radio. Unthinking gardenhose division. Silver tobacco. Plumes of smoke wrapping around kaleidoscopes and ribbons. Arranging coins and rubber bands on your dresser so the perfect picture, framed under light-pole tropics, can be snapped and captured. Miserably fine. Dutch warrior. The follow up to a question twice asked by a woman with gold earrings and sad eyes. Forty moon measurements, all cushioned and supplemented with a smile. Acquiesce. Splice.