marmalade tinged nightness of sequenced banjo strumming where shadows crease into printmarks against the black palette of the many layered after-evenings; stillness and silvery white lights permeate like the shine of keys and tiptoed peeking that curiousity of lightness i soothe i sail i wither i curl and dry crispy crunchy leaves they flutter and fall on me like a coat of vogueness and shyness.

whenever i talk to some people, eg. vette i feel like that.