Pretending to be out, left rolling over, a manger there.
Having a bath in a washtub, on the back of a woman, to draw a face mark.
And nanohana, swaying on a branch, a black armband there.
Gone to his homeworld, too late now, the encircling net for is.
Before killed by bomb, by blue flare, a necklace on. Or, failing completely, by blue flare, a necklace on.