place where i gulp, a tiny back room somewhere distant and indistinct, or a small house off a backroad & cozy with little turkish rugs, crayon-colored furniture and things, dollhouse-size, but alive, flexing wide like a spongy sea creature or lung. forming want. [ ] i try plying it with different tastes—tea, chorizo, avocado, nuts— but nothing doing; no more than opening and shutting windows stalls the mount to heat frenzy and returning chill; the gape stays still, shadowed like Humphrey Bogart in a trenchcoat on some staircase (stirring for a cigarette)
a woman all about love yesterday.
We have a single sky.
have a single slash
|a single sleep||rose|
|a single slip||rotunda|
|a single smoke||rough|
gotta let the passageway silhouette,
benediction of my kneel creaks in ________ labyrinths;
trying to ________ pregnant, backgrounds with or without; married, single. pressing
hard, bloom drains from my hand. patch. sunlight dims
in the late aftertaste. sunshade dimming in the late age. 66°
Your pearl self slows power, circles