If an emotion crawls around in you it is pink and delicate to radio a fact with French. Some emotions are green some emotions are red some emotions are sliding and adrift and some emotions contain combinations of sunfish and diamond. Some emotions are rooted in nobility. Some emotions float values. Values are linen and pamphlet. A little daub of treatise in the big drop of black. The smell of reality laps at nutmeg. Nutmeg is a form of park. We sometimes sense things that are synonym and cinnamon. Some emotions are nylon. Some emotions are neon. This emotion is stormy and dangerous. I call it the emotion of talk. I call it the feeling of eucalyptus. A June, a kind of agility or bridge, a kind of rainbow and a serious dexterity, a raked emulsion and heavy knickknack, extremities of plywood and slots and deltas. A pale foot in 1998. Muddy Waters in 1969. A flourish of words in 2004. An ambulance in rhinestone. An injury in trigonmetry. A calculus in ceremony. Existence wasps. Picnic stone. Baked conviction. Hundreds of old men marching in the rain in Belgium.