outside the sun

a crocheted heart happens in oleander


fury of you, forgets the stray brush of tipped fingers

I certainly can’t if you could forget as in the moment of pace

between glass

black now bloodless links of a bathroom break patch work in juke forts and dirty teams

your body with my body the numbers the shade of rocks lucent now, the silver summer bonnet in your scarf


we make or match the balance of a whole, trees because they have jaws

extract preferring to watch the day of yours where the muscle lies in normal clothes dressed in a tie

a fucking wish and a poem, white because of drums

the letter is a small footnote fang in a fence with legs

curled to the left bone

boiled because it is tired of hardening

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