Virgil Meet France

I look to the skies and I see a constellation of you, Virgil, my gorilla living quietly in the St. Paul vicinity. You are best and I take this cool wet towel to your brow to soothe your stress. We look at the little bunny hopping outside, thinking in Fench, and inside your property. Maybe extermination is too extreme. We will just be mean, telepathically, because she looks so sweet and like something great to eat. We will stay sane as people try to look at your brain. It is too vast, and too much in the stars to view, actually. We will try and I will give the tears to the Pagan table as you drink of the waterfalls and bend appropriately in front of me. Qui, SENSAI.