Three Hundred and Fourteen

"Hark close and still what I now whisper to you,
I love you, O you entirely possess me,
O that you and I escape from the rest and go utterly off, free and lawless,
Two hawks in the air, two fishes swimming in the sea not more lawless than we"

I still think you're great, Walt-y poo.

Wading in deeper
Testing the waters flowing
Then I’m swept away