Ah well then I recalled the time I grew into myself and then the skin was too tight even when regaled by the company of powdered women and hot water.  It was steamy and the faucet was never hot; always filled with remains of half cooked food or half digested morsels from the sloppiest generation seen by the lowly window to the soul.  It wasn't a dark day by any means but it was in the context of shabby lives the string of my coat run ragged by the tenderloins crack rotted teeth.  I jangled my mind with oceans of influence soft and drowsy, pupils smaller than the atoms of the infinite flows ganging up on us all.  Please, though, I recall the centuries and I know, so don't think I ain't seen it before cause I have and its as easy as handing off money for the goods.