Clone
Caught hold of your flood lung
Harbour your 'someone'
Prevent me
Shown
You swoon in your lace run
Brooding, a quilt tongue
Pining me
Calm, clot, cold, and bleed
Bone
Pull over your midriff
Labour your inches
Widow me
Hone
All crimson and hinges
Tarot and itches
Corner me
Faux, shot, sold and bleed [×3]
