take my time
to unwrap fingers
browned edges
salt vined, intertwined
theatrics
annimated summers and terrible twos
your violence is
impossible
santa ana winds
over a telephone call in june
fumble your
words to the ground
lazy like
kat nap
geometric tears in blue jeans
side swiping glances
regretfully
long and
lustful
fine feathers, like
lips
grapes among gold
cold cotton and deep palms
lets leave town tonight
wedge our disasters
in some streetlight
and watch it all go black
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