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Huh?

Stomping in the brain mold, my head is full of jelly. Too many stuff flipping the cascade and interrogatives lead only down. Catalepsy, dogalepsy, effervescence in the terminal broom respond.
Collect.
Collect.

Depravity abundant, coerce my tiny snail into freeing the vestiges of youth along the narrow roadway.

Flames flicker dimly in the distance, souls entwined and layers kept. Freezing of substance.
Collect.
Collect.

Rancid notes entwine, save Rasputin for another day. Deftly linger, like a sponge dawdling infinitesimally along the banks, to frost and yet gently rescind.
Taste of bitterness upon my tongue.
Collect.
Collect.

Deliver.

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