Worlds without end the emptiest parts of the life span crows and ravens prey on
frozen, hungry brown bears as if it could smash through solid rock
an eye on some freakist, million-to-one
Saturday, March 29, 2008
note: I love you better from a distance, in a block of white hardening tofu air where I can't chatter. But chew near a concrete duct, suffering from the brightness of a peacock misplaced, but strutting, in the suffering April snow.
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