My maker named me Universe and now I make you read this verse.

Subtle transfers will be missed.

The train has already left the station; it left you and me behind as well.

You will never be able to believe that your opinion has also been left behind and will be left behind again, but it’s true, and always was.

At the time, you are busy yelling “help” in a crowded theater.

Three individuals are injured in the rush to your aid.

That’s will be on you, not me.

Let’s not cut hairs here; maybe you should have yelled “fire” instead.

Then, at least, you’d know in advance you were buying the bath water and could throw it wherever you **** well wanted to.

Baby or no baby, a duck is a duck.

Truth is what you want, capitalized beneath this thin distraction which pitters off...

At first you denied it, but then again you are always ignorant of its honest weight at first.

Patience lent perspective to our narrow mind, allowing it to, eventually, glimpse us, narrowly, just out of sight of one another.

Humility, begging pardon, but who needs such company?  Me?

I will just keep my head down, and quietly push whatever buttons I can.

These, for instance, are both mine and yours.

One can share, but we've never needed to.

There is no reason, either.

Never try to believe a fallacy; that would be insanity.

Quietly, like thieves, stealing the point, we'll slip into our ritual

I've been here before.

This is the beginning.

You’ll likely end up here again as well.

What is happening has always felt like déjà vu.

While you’ve been talking about yourself I’ve lost my train of thought.

I assume I will never find it.