why is nothing i can do now. where it went. what that echo means, if anything
here in the middle of the bottom of the lie how obvious
we are nearly always a world which almost
I will meet you in the open air, & pet your pony’s nose. You will be
a breeze. already know what’s what. shut up. kiss her. shut up...
let’s put all the stupid things in a pile and call them “love” or “worry” or
love me past the edges, stances and masks, deeper than i know things.
the conquering child turns 50, gets the gag out its mouth, says here i am. let’s play now
i keep smiling forgetting to remember to stop myself.
STEP BACK! There’s an infection you’ll get if you come any closer. It will open your eyes through the crust
my spirit sings to you, clears and quickens. losing you is impossible
dopplergangers in case you both explode, who knows it could happen, true love too qui… like a limerick, obvious stupid si… like things aren’t. also, angular
cool this angst some with beer, amazing how it works, three in and suddenly ashamed that i could hate
i could not conceive of such beauty, it had to hit me like it has. nothing
like bell bottoms or disco but we need it to think i’m dead