Shooting pleasures Ok’d by My being seen For Or as

You’re it. It is (you are) an error with an arsenal of disguises,

If sadness is akin to patience, we’re back! Pattern recognition was our first response

You may “have” sex— but those round sink—holes beneath the off—ramps, scabbed with whatever

What if I were turned on by seemi… or “extrapolate?” What if I maneuvered conversation… words? Perhaps the excitement would come…

The jacaranda, for instance, is be… but not serious. That much I can guess. And that the view

spider on the cold expanse of glass, three stories high rests intently and so purely alone. I’m not like that!

The doll told me to exist. It said, “Hypnotize yourself.” It said time would be transfixed.

A career in vestige management. A dream job back—engineering shifts in salience. I’m so far

We know the story. She turns back to find her trail devoured by birds. The years; the

It’s as if we’ve just been turned… in order to learn that the beetle we’ve caught and are now devouring is our elder brother

Discomfort marks the boundary. One early symptom was the boundary… The invention of hunger. I could use energy. To serve.

A merchant is probing for us with his chintz curtain effect. *