You write to lay a picture.|| Imagine you're captured by me. Or something __ no, not that. When you meandered off that afternoon, hanging up the world that left me by, gold rings, broken hedges, cheap worry, what can I do.|| I||| wait for love.
Not quite like a fool,but imagining heavy
loves, nights of weeping.||| INsert Metric
Inserting g'end_er||
Break the words, break them, find the lover's bond. Not the simple heavy weight of guilt, but liberty in your eyes. Where I have never been.
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Before the bray
of idiots I'm nothing. But a tale. Something woeful, say. A vers un glas determine
trying to thwart sense. Like I imagine your body does. Open the sense of this verse,
and vessel, a voice speak_ing, slipping away daily, __here as it does nowhere else.
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above outDooR rhizot to Paintrism a mouvement perpetuelle des poetpix.
