because this is the earth yearning for the birth of many men and many children and all the kings and all the kings men and a seven thousand silver streamed moonlight militia. and all the aptives of corroded country streets and sounds of zounds of salamanders and pinks and purples and the whole day’s mouth zooming into your volition. your vestibule of vernacular and voracious appetites. she is brown a nd bottled and chaming and charmed and magnetic and pulsing, buzzing like a burning butterfly, bumblebee imagination and fliting and fluttering and grounded and greased and growing and aing like rain like wine like french truths and timeless effots. like all thebards infinite, timeless truths tracking me trough time, finding me through the future. let’s give magic. let’s make magic. let’s breathe truth into our veins and out of our bodies like little violet chapels of changeling choruses and chords of corruption and flow. let’s flow, shall we? let’s grow.