o, mickle my pickle
"within the infant rind of this weak flower
poison hath residence and medicine power:
for this, being smelt, with that part cheers each part;
being tasted, slays all senses with the heart.
two such opposed kings encamp them still
in man as well as herbs, grace and rude will;
and where the worser is predominant,
full soon the canker death eats up that plant."
i have black fabric dye, vanilla and chai tea concentrate,
and tangerine oil on my finger tips.
i've been working all day. and.
i still have hell to pay.