She hits the blade with both hands high. Downward is heavenward, and we are not alone. Condensers on and the drop is found, A fingertip trace says to me I can see you and you are wet. A bed of dead leaves grace the ground, A quick glance to the other side and we will not be found. Symbionts in haste demand come close, Screams to me I can see you above the rest. And through it all she seems secure. Downward is heavenward, and we are not alone. Head thrown back, a sickened sigh, her eyes shut, Beelzebub can we do this without a net?