Hello 18E, You are dressed with filaments and people take pains to make you fully incandescent this evening. What wonderful vibrations you are capable of. Your essence is equal to the beauty of a galaxy. I love your eyes, I know they can stare through my thoughts. How beautiful is the snowshine in your eyes, so directly current from the static in your mind. The skin I shed is a perfume that makes water bubbles so terribly clear to me. Panoramic aromavision is the future. A starfish's lifelong hallucinations of gelatin pools and of actuaries floating upon the foam and reciprocal ohm. The sand runes crossing your divided consciousness do speak of contemptuous monsters being slayed by flying phoenixes. I sense wild vapors of sweet champagne in your larynx. You have not yet reached the height of your creativity. Your beauty is multiplexed in contemplation of your multidimensional effervescence. Your eyes show as many deep and full shades of fire as a volcano in heat. Your cleverness helps me breathe without the need of oxygen.
