Forget those cacophonies that I sucked out of your hot sauce gums twisted and sistered under the
I was one of the first.
Dandy candy lovers on the carousel poles look up for loose light bulbs and
I haven’t laughed for you since December.
Dead berries on a crooked branch hit my diaphragm with more bounce than nights you traded me. Hold on to that token keeping the laundry machines bulimic and warm. Maybe in an hour you can spit serotonin back in to my aggressive spores. It’s all relatives around the toe of the lamb ass boots. Won’t you hold my breath while
I can’t remember when to leave.