Throw light through two slits. You see a light, a shade, a light-shade. Supra-moral. Like the one-eyed see straight at problems, else the problems would bowl over, boiling me. I had my bad bits and grins. I cuddled a bundle of them. Yet, spilled them, got caught, snubbed, shot to naught. My face-value done to splits. I am glad you know, now, my secrets for the summer: just cover up your nude bits, in case you don't want the world to be busy like a bee.
I am glad to be home. Home, my sweet home, my dear home, my only home.
See ya soon.