Thursday, January 28, 2016

patience




I may have done, I can't remember; if it was as long ago as last November hair and lard extrusions may well have done stabat.


                                 resembled      fronds     the    sky   through  brisk  fronds


no chance of me remmbering my doctor complints brick nibbling pewter sheep.


                     starr        heath


it water-stole could have been you sequins in rough cushion. stood, standing in the black square with the (you stood concerning)  bleak rosebuds if it could be called morning standing.  and everyone disappeared by us.


                                father       mother  


concentrating face, on the old walls collarbone

may well have frilled my fingers too in the winter; I am patient too. in there with her shoes off. A very long time


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