sandier pass
What
we do in the soon to be midnight, one time I had my arm across the
banister and billowing. Put my face in apparel. It sounded like a
captain, I’ll call him, a glove, while we squinted
into the den fire. Terminating the agreement, he quashed. So much for
neither sea, I had huge sights right then, a Theory of Contagion, this
weathered pelican bill you called "broken" in two places. Nevermind,
the juices to your lips were extraordinary. The fish, it seems, poured
into. A necklace secured to my sternum, I was all but slaloming where
we went, splitting spray on dogheads toddling along. Who assumed a
regal almost human shape in the water. We could talk in the box, you
and I, like sprites at evening mass and the dogs the dogs following
smaller. We could fit them in, we would, walking through two
greenhouses.
|
| |