'Tis a far, far better thing . . . .Dave shivered at his thought circa 1840. A new milieu - that's what's needed. Too many hours are spent separating the gelatinous from the sanctimonious and Dave is a straight forward guy. The story he'd like to write about is taboo with Connie and she'd pick up on the veiled references no matter how clever Dave worked them in. Do I detect whining? I could write a brilliant story but my girl won't let me? Not a drop, Dano. It's more about abbondanza of galactic narrative ammunition vs.she breaks just like a little girl. Her heart transcends mine. I'll find the work-around to the story that's too sensitive to spell out, spill out and even stir out. My old friend Jiddu reminds me that thought doesn't fix the problem so words containing the thought are just mind-diddles not epiphanies. A song thrush forced to be a mockingbird out of respect. But Dave also knew that a story withheld is a story brimming for release. such as:

Cradled in the solitude of sweet September spring
In a colloquy imbued with danger and desire
Lies a truth unshaken by the mirrors overhead
Nor the firmaments brazen with fescue and miscues
Fragmented only by misdirected loyalty
For the gracious and the endearing
A lullaby for the hysteria