Tuesday, August 23, 2016

8556. SPEECHLESS

SPEECHLESS
You are speechless, maiden,
and I must go. There's a welter
of things to be done. The high
stepping boys in their Brandenburg
hats, the British fellows, eating their
Battenberg cakes. Me? I've got a few
diseases, yes, though I can't recall
which ones are still contagious. I
recall very little of the future, and 
it's those versions of the past you
need beware of anyway.
I am speechless too.

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