uneager ease in sits on sofas

tended, at one point, to all moments tenderly as razor-think, garlic clove slices skillet fried for sauce ends up mostly quiet but willing, speaking the worship of hours gone by, loveslust in time calls sicked nothing no names traced in sand, bends to pull dead leaves from plants and walks slow deliberate sys strange angel passerby and worth knowing worth knowing.

2003-12-09 | 3:15 p.m.
0 comments so far