Noun that I've been watching (28)

river.
she shelved recollection that would rhyme with swift or sweet. then reached for one of them to shape into a psyche. I am always her daughter, mark my age at birth I was inseparable with eternity and now there are not empty pages enough. I hope that she can hear me. I revert to her she never knew how core the links the integers the fond light now much I needed her. She never goes away I heard myself assume her place only a fraction as beloved where I took the reins and helped an individual be an individual.

if you are reading now we have a picnic basket and I take you to the Coldwater River. I like a proper noun to keep us co-registered within the truth of what I say to you. What teaches my skin something is the inner joy and pain. I would like the outer fencing to show white, that I might keep clean the intrusions.

Fire opposes as does earth. I feel a running prose and that means every sentence already occurs our job has been to find it. In an evening of an evening we converse. This may mean you and me. Nominative case so cared for has my hand.

For many days no one has done a thing my home is like a hospital people begin and then quickly conclude I suppose I might relax in a hot bath there seem to have been poems to help clear out or clear away confusion. It is just my way of staying alive outside the dream that taxes me. I feel usually taxed. I play through and the next moment I'm on the case. The few burdens I am willing to release become infractions anymore. Now hesitation comes to heel-toe magic.

Everybody here leaves the TV on. I have felt alone for many days because I'm trying to remain on top of the confusion. Nothing has been solved in a long while. Not a moment to be lost in gentle looking after climbing slate rock to discover white marks that would say something. To rub a derby might mean baldness will be next.

I look across the room and there is desert sunlight on the wall, no hint of any river now.

Noun that I've been watching (27)

Map.
My relatives are vectors. They do bronze with flourish. I live in these clothes. I walk across the street. I sketch my autobiography. I flow with radio Shapiro. Are you listening to your beautiful self without me? Pry all you desire. I'm still this statue over here to your defiant over there. And when our hands join some TV will gather up the probability of its recurrence. Then what?

I have no spatial feeling. I go someplace and it's the same as here. I try to taste the silver that seems just like mine. I mean the stainless steel. Which war? The tin foil. Maynard G. Krebbs, right? I sit here and it's someplace I have walked to. For what reason are we not identical?

I mean I can talk to you regardless of your declaration of singularity. My own, your own, her fantasy of being one, at one, just one self left to seem a spoke spawned from a single hub.

What sparkles sun makes possible. A posse of near neighbors comes to us with some facsimile of birthday (singular). Everyone was born at once. You see? You dig? You feel esprit de corps? I thought that margins had a bridge to safety in them. I also thought about the work I have sustained.

Resilience is your only option. I grade you on that feature of your grading me. Perhaps you want to light my path. And name if after you. And copy how I cross each bridge hypothesized. And scamper across paths. And think about each one without its name.