ritual be dormant.
there he stretches to abrasion and removal of the hurt.
come down from there
an unrequited skepticism blanks on a responsive stare.
the cameo appearance usually backfires.
maximum intent reverses charges.
is that you, miriam?
is that you, bradford?
is that you, amelia?
gorgeous names yield glocken-salience.
a feather in your campsite, said the hollerman.
why north, says she.
why anything, comes the reply.
it's daylight anymore.
still any day now.
Sunday, July 8, 2007
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