does a king come ready– made, or doesn’t he emerge from a prince once a frog, and aren’t you

was all stupid. you weren’t that entertaining. i find it all only sad now, that

excuse me, i thought you were also the center of a fractal

why is nothing i can do now. where it went. what that echo means, if anything

bring me things to break myself upon till

something you need makes you its bitch, yes even as it isn’t coming, no when love stands you up & all the more sweet

Fieldwizards and firetops. Wobblybirds on snowflowers. Chilled milk and chowder for the little prince. Mothercake for mumbled thanks.

unspeakable dearth of nutrient the cause of the complaint, lack of the sweet titmilk of human connection,

my spirit sings to you, clears and quickens. losing you is impossible

first fruits hardly a handful, the garden

we are nearly always a world which almost

shut my eyes and squeeze my demand, the point of a spear.  what will happen.