I Could Not Stop For Death And

The Truth Never Flaunted A Sign.

Forever Is Comprised Of Nows.

Is Bliss Then, Such Abyss, I Must Not Put My Foot Amiss For Fear I Spoil My Shoe? I'd Rather Suit My Foot Than Save My Boot -- For Yet To Buy Another Pair Is Possible, At Any Store -- But Bliss, Is Sold Just Once. The Patent Lost None Buy It Any More --

To Lose What We Have Never Owned Might Seem An Eccentric Bereavement, But Presumption Has Its Own Affliction As Well As Claim.

I Dwell In Possibility A Fairer House Than Prose More Numerous Of Windows Superior — For Doors.