Effing idiocy of self

Who is not guilty.

As soon as I accuse I am guilty.

Your dispassionate acknowledgement aches as much as that I aver myself to you in dispassion, presumeably.

Share and share alike says the one with no vested interest in sharing.

What are we to make of this?, says the hardworking young lady who only recently became vested.

Benevolence could unsuspectingly become malificence here.

Here in our position. Do we care?

But what would they know of us, anywazy.

They would know what we allowed and told.

Because as beautiful nobodies, we dodge gazes but come together in verbal symetry.

Equilaterally pentacling.

Miraculous