they talked of god while i was focussed on the layout,                 the format of the thing.



i told them i had tidied the box, they wanted to see and gasped        when all was opened.



look at the words they cried, another language, so old and dusty.           do you know there

are things not written anywhere?  the page lay open the word in bold, the edges crumbled.



excitement  tasted in air,              another visit is promised with no word of god.         ahem.



the other book left tied.

paradise lost.



sbm.