There are two machines, advertising promises
only one keeps.

To learn their promise you must press hard,
you must know how hard to press
how long to press

It will give you grape juice.

The grape juice is not yours.
You do not want the grape juice, you never did. You wanted only to please.

The grape juice is placed in front of the girl with the fiery hair who is your arranged companion.

You did it wrong.


Two groups, unconditional disciples
only one follows you.

You go to that dolce lagoon lined with darkness that is edged by light.

It is raining.

Each droplet produces one saucer, thousands of saucers for thousands of rain drops. In each saucer's fleeting moment of existence, the light laps from its darkness.

The sky is purple.
The water is dark, but we are swimming in grape juice.

Lighting splinters through this fluid and bring sharpness to a hazy sky.