Flushed and groined grab the sight the eye viewed to its mountain  If one goes one stays the staying one goes with the passing. This way Mona's freight  is packed coached to service in her desiring machine and bollocks between.

Each cover lingers the brain in the kingdom of fragmented planets the gears call  Nothing hears the click click but the bust  of night windows

So Mona and the dress second the imperious second to the clock's nagging quotient.