Those hipster jeans. The belt loops are like...

Loopholes.
You've put me through them.
I've looked through them at my heart's desire.
You've traveled through them.
I've knitted them JIT.
Life is short.
What a pity.
There is a loophole.
Right here in this city.
Right here in these words.
There is one who knows the way.
To end time's endless march and gain eternity in a loophole.
Two hands meet in mobius.
Everyday.
It's quite simple.
The shared life.
Shared experience.
The tick tock stopping resonation of ideas.
The gravity defying lightness of laughter.
The inexorable calm of understanding.
The integrity of good character.
The deft and daft of craft.
More brick than mortar.
Two palms blended into one eternity.
Forming a mobius.
One loophole.
Forever bending time's directed march into integral moments
of emergent delight.

Kindof like how a can of PBR is roundish.