The Gander spoke to me yesterday. Snow was the subject, I was the victim.
Questions arose of me one night. Battle fueled tongues lashed out with their cons, no pros in sight, and out of mind.
Circles unravel. A circus is formed. The trapeze artist resorts to paints. The clowns wash their faces; the monkeys their hands. It is time to put the elephants to bed.
All of the elephants in the room must be put to bed. I will stay and await for words. A symphony of well used vocabulary, with proficient dialect. When used for you, pristine.
But, OH what a knife when used against you.
Choose your words wisely, and your motives ingeniously.