Wednesday, November 04, 2009

refusal reterri



A lyrical love striing. Comes around our neck. We pause, grateful for the beads that've made our love tick grow wide. And wider at each spare









This was many of its paradise peregrinating down that chute as the buckwheat sword played time.

Came again rivered to none, solo to many ~

Love was this way, its boots.


________ Mona signed her name. Kiss bucket.