&
Hand over hand
I'm pulling myself together
On this itchy couch again
I'd pull you in
But
I couldn't help thinking
Or
My mouth was tarpaulin
Let me start again
I didn't mean to say so
Much about my plans
So you see my hand
See? It's never either/or now
Stigmata ampersand
The morning is the self it's self evident
A clattering of blinds
A mimetic wind
A sympathetic tremor I'm
A tessela of signs
Oh, I close my eyes and
Fractal inner rings of varicose resign
Coiled dark inside
I'll open my eyes and clear my
Throat when I know it's time
Por el momento, a nadie le gusta este artículo
Publicado el: 2024-06-16 00:00:00 por panzas
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