Attempting to explain the honeymoon. The tempting funny swoon whose dizzy rooms lay waste to boredom and humorless goons. The laughter and giggles, high school rain drizzle, breathing in water, like curling in a womb. Fetal and regal in this beautiful tomb.
The running, the lunching, when will we fight, will there be choking or punching? Kissing or licking, wild windshield kicking, what beauty beholds this wicked reckoning!
Dribbling information to a starving little dude. Anything less would just simply be rude.