From the celebration, escaping quietly, a headache sufferer.
On the decisive game, putting forwards in on, being stumped by. Or, on the decisive game, to expose your femininity, being stumped by.
In the middle of their subdued conversation, playing cat's cradle, his fingers tangle.
Of my grand master, lying in her lap, the night comes.
Missed you, even if I sing, under a gravestone you are.