This is not Haute Couture

But how would you prepare something like this?
You remember
The sea and its moisture of distance
A giant blue clam, Great Barrier Reef, Queensland
We saw the landscape divide and depart, up and down, dark
And that portrait you drew is fucking full of mystery
But I've got to tell you
This is not Haute Couture
I can tell by the stitches and from having seen a lot of Haute Couture
The best ever
You promised
The best ever
I can tell by the fabric, this cheapo silk
The tincture, this watery verdigris colour
Not to mention it's weak against Bolt3
Manriki chains adangle and copious amounts of featherplastic
Sewn from pedantic foppery and fogged-up lethargy