What I have is a pitch angled at nothing and I envy the limber crowd of bees, and I envy the spider’s easy meal.
The low hum of a wash cycle competes with, then dislodges my dirge, gradually builds a golden, natural looking wan expression.
Diffident? Go out and meander content to accept the indifference of meaning. This walk is not a protest. This work was only ever play.
Suitable for all skin types our explanations can’t help themselves, run like British accents on trade and explain away any need for help. Non-streaking conceits you know best how much you are worth.
a poem partly made up from the blurb on a shampoo bottle!