This Time...

Cries through stucco walls. Cries of hunger. Milk pumped, pulse system, correct errors, immune system strengthens, fever burns. Blood. Crawling through carpet spills, spit up, drink, spit up. Grab glasses, groan, grunt, and moan. Life.

Time pulses. Pump evolution of story into bone, flesh, hair, grow with breath roll toys walk soon. Masterpiece of all things good and pure rolled up in you. Genetic make-up carry on life's seed, need this to go on. Thank you, for you. Thank you for giving us another chance. To do it right this time. To make sure you get what you need this time. To prove that we are worth-while this time.

We have made our mark with you. With your groans, moans, chrome dome skin pure fullness, of fruit of earth of all the potential of everything. When the time comes we will look back and we will see you. All the memories of you, and we will laugh with you, because you made it all come true, sweet pure child of mine. Sweet pure child this time.