Stained with the blood, shining in the rays of the snow, a woman face is. Or, stained with the blood, coming out on the snow, a woman face is.
In my spare time, to eat and cross, on the red‐painted bridge. Or, in my spare time, to eat and cross, by the red-painted chopsticks.
To be neutered, a dog to think about of, a morning has come.
All along the watchtower, shadow of which, chasing for.
A snail says, dancing and dancing a little bird, a cloud of dust over there. Or, in a cochlea, to go ahead the boogeyman, a cloud of dust over there.