zephyrtronium

Does it bother you? Is it merely a whisper in the back of your mind, a fleeting murmur you neither forget nor find? And not to overburden your integrity, but you never really listened for the subtleties. Hell, you could hardly tell the difference between those baritone bellows and a soprano scream. I suppose my prattling never helped any, I would go on and on, ranting about cataclysms and catatonics, describing the distinction between the apathetic and enormous. You withstood my every accusation, eyes defiant as you listened.   My words quickened, syllables spilling out lisped persistence, asking you for elasticity, some flexibility