The hierarchy has come into my hand over,
the juices have ascended my appendage,
the hierarchies have adult in my breast-
descending,
the brushwood grow up elsewhere of me, similar to appendages.

Hierarchy you be,
Moss you are,
you are mauves by means of breeze on top of them.
A teen – so lofty – you are,
and every one this is craziness in the direction of the globe.