Then everything was perfect once more
Or seemingly so, at least
No more messing about the place, haphazardous second only to the relative pain which was, now, finally beginning to take it upon itself to wane
All of its rather delicious own accord – sometimes peculiar can indeed come back to haunt you all over again, only this particular time in a rather impressive manner
Don’t. You. Dare. Over-think. This. Particular. One.
Perfection marching itself on up to stand right in front of the piercing sun
When you could not have expected this outcome any less
Naked as the day it was born, all too prepared to burn right the whole way out
Everything oh so very ironic, really, in this particular instance, at least
Perhaps that right there the only perfect part when it comes to all of this
Get ready to do your dance all over again

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