no means no. no response means no. (everyone knows maybe means nothing

the very idea that i could be

god is unwelcome in suburbia, the cells are too comfortable there, & love rests best under stars.

of course it is not about you. you have to know this, like baby birds know worms come with mother’s return,

webwomb’s not the maker of me. came into it as falling is done. down, only always

first fruits hardly a handful, the garden

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

the center holds itself still that rockets believably may be seen exploding in all directions from somewhere vaguely

simply knowing you’re in a maze doesn’t get you out, but the fact is the foundation

bring me things to break myself upon till

i keep smiling forgetting to remember to stop myself.