Indeed, a casting, sir, a doing,
and for that, salmon eggs.
If a suicide's angel, truly
we should have walked a little
longer, before the gills and wings.
But we were seething to pick worlds,
and the feelings of feelings-
it's impossible as a hippopotamus.
Certainly, we love too much;
it shakes out of us.
We were at the worm store,
I remember;
you went balooning and the boat
tipped.