Wet cobbles; fallen dark-gold, namely rotting, of planes and oaks and chestnuts; sadly, I miss the brilliant scarlet of maples around here; mossed-over sidewalks along lengths of ragged hedges; springy, rocking gaits like a means of expression; nervous despite being composed expressions; I am no longer interested in taut, stony ones; sufferings being telepathically communicated despite toying with this and that gizmo, so busy; dumb, no, but you can speak fluently in any tongues; if you make a voice in it, I can get it somehow; incommunicado, no, you choose the other easier way; excommunication, no, everyone is so, insulated, safely raving--so a sniffer weaves through you but has a moment to care a peek at you. Happy Valentines Day to you all!
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