Warmer? Colder? Shoulder?

A surfeit of surfing.
A footfall of turfing.

Intractable manacles
with a single eyeglass
and a misplaced 'a'.

Lever the levels 
as we do.

Our musts crust
the film of a crust.

Did you say trust?
That would be
your mistake.
Our break.

The stake driven
through our vampire
hearts. There be root

vegetables in your 
dreams. How do 
I know? It was carried

in the waves, scrawled
in the dirt, locked between

two hands failing to remember
where those arms end up.