Head And Feet. Beloved I am head over heels. Believing in an understated bow of mine conscious of sheer power. Receiving an headband of pure agapfied emotion. Adjusting the acclaim just in case of fools gold in mine office. Reaching for an understanding in mine ever expounded complex of design of development of a pure flower seeking an pistil. Lo, for it is I. And lo, in whom haveth your strength? Beloved I pray. You prey, on what seems to be an endless feast of pure agapfied emotion. Translate an image of grace to an ever elusive love. Beloved, I hath put on mine robe, how shall I take it off again? For lo, the singing of the birds hath come and mine elbows haveth no scrapes. For it hath been said dream dreams people will read again!
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