Floss
I crave the companyalthough its like a piece of flossthat I wrench too farinto that pinky fleshto cry something redand
ROMA, SINGULAR
Day carries on brightly,he has no other choice.surrounded and swarmed by summery fleshmy blood runs alone, frosted winteron my crown
Bomen
The trees whistle and turn and say I love youThe sky softens into a pasty blueTo touch my cheek and
No shade
All three of my heartslie across the oceanthe shade offers little protectionto anything but my skin How do you keep
Not Much
Not much more thansprightly twigsgreen tomatoseed on asphaltthe atoms sprawled across the skybefore they gather in a meetingand become a
America is in the living room
America is like a big familyeveryone is eternallyin the living roomin their pajamasfighting or loving (as siblings)offering snacks and yelling
Are your dreams coming from your reality or does your reality come from your dreams?
(A very messy and syntaxless body of bananathoughts conceived on a metal voyage) Dreams on flighty wingsallude mecome to me
Never dissemble
sand settles at the bottom of a glassa single strandof Sunwiggles through the waterand onto (a) palm of a hand
Clouds sustain addiction to the sun
people come and goclouds sustain addiction to the sunwinters envy summerscelestial wrenchingssustain my kneesto the floor my heart these yearsis