Keeps a luminous choir in his open hand to exalt the newborn tongue breathless. At the summit of sleep he devours his ends to confer with the earthworms restless. Tenth in a line of hopjaws and jokers. Guards of the secret umbrella report. In a parliament of light he hides out and glows. In the parlance of moons he’s a hatching egg. In the workshop of never he is always. In the blue bedroom of death he shivers tiny but grows. Not in principle form unmistakable indeterminate amaranthine.