Gloves mate for life but,
the solo-glove is a mutant udder, an other of deformed teats, seeking another. Another in search of its misplaced (s) wanting to pluralise into a conjoined-twining.
It is also a stranded deep-sea creature washed too far ashore, unable to return to its aquatic habits.
Within the solo-glove’s jewelled imagination, it senses the five thefts of the finite.
This uninvited criminal act is deliberatelytricky sand-villainess. Often alongside steals the solo-glove’s liberties.
This uninvited criminal act is deliberately termed, ‘Sightseer’ and purposely labelled, womanly.
When it is past the tense stage and no waking-words can alter this because its
nocturnal-flagships have emerged and merged, the solo-glove’s emasculated cries will take first prize, morning, noon and night AND IT WILL CALLOUT FOR JUSTICE!
And see, here are the solo-glove’s gory hands, and its embarrassed eyes, and swinging sex organs that spit and crackle and flash –
All are so quick to vanish it’s as if a star has come to personally deliver the collapsed pain of its spectacular implosion.
To ensure the solo-glove does not forget it is inseparable from its other-handed pair, thumbprints are taken.
Despite this, the solo-glove continues diving though ultramarine hoops, searching for forlorn treasure-maps, grabbing at sheets and stabbing at meat.
And slowly but surely, the next phase appears to go on and on and on, eating the solo-glove’s heart out.