Is It Today Yet

No, maybe tomorrow. Not sense, that shit'll kill ya. But maybe a taste of a touch of, something that keeps you close, but not so close they push off and make break, fine lines, euclidean, not. Squiggle city and the run from the whatever that kills, I'm back for more now please. Please Sir/Madam, may I have some Dickens please? Worst of the worst? I know you, I don't know from where, but it'll come to me.