Oh, and the marsh of Mars.

Don't you want to know?
Hasn't it a curiosity to its skin?
A puzzle?
--the extension of why me!?
To compliment my
Why You!?

The marsh of Mars is buried in a cup of smooth (and sugary), while the doctor who relocated to Mexico City to cure goosebumps--G-d bless him--he should be shot.

I'm temperate, but for when it comes to the treasons of skin, the bullring growing from my nose, picture of the valley

Where you.

How!