the one whos doing everything

misspell moist menthe, the way bodies

could upset

this forgetting

calms everything else into place

I want to apologize for the reason more seductive

how may I ask is food racist

brass typefaces

my tea, back against the him paging yellow notes of another’s hand writing

preserves hums

the wet oil wound wings of lovely laundry baskets dark chocolate stones, partly pink her belief, of palms kneading jars, into me how does he massage different at all

I cried for that

in the leather of a blue dress

tradition of a sunday                                clockwork orange made

afternoon snows, open and close

bowls of a plain tree, shy, puttering, as white as married bottles of lists                 of anybody’s guess, he holds them

he passes her broth

shade shakes the roofs a virtue in kelp

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