don't yell at your friends.

scattered down the stairs. only roast meat at the pinnacle of love. only shout yes when, summer shortage, summer sword edge bleeds cold into fall. 

Don't pay no mind, to the confident rally cry of big men. it's like an infantry. Battle field, longtime, slow case cause. There's a sheep skull buried underfoot, and wouldn't you mind putting it on the door step of someone you hate so much maybe you love them after war. 

Just like that, stack these currented fragments, 

love to loss.