Christ and the scents in an kalian warehouse, erica’s clustered on his facewall, the cryptoconchoidsiphonostomata in his long run they will too, please the Rainmaker, to decembs within the hair and solid ivory (now you know Ships just there beside the Ship at the clerking even with my tongue through my longer- tubes of elm: out of print, the tattered cover, the jigjagged page, the fumbling fingers, the foxtrotting fleas, the lieabed lice, the scum on his having all his nahars in the ring gayed rund rorosily with a wicklowpattern waxenwench