The buzz saw is a quiet rabbit House keeping the lawn

Cornflake box novels 

Sweater weather mythology

Sometimes when I walk by strangers

I know you less or more 

You remind me of a memory I had washing your dishes even though the washer worked 

The bath ran away

Geese fly south some come back

A song came on it was the radiator 

A closet of just my clothes 

I think jigsaw puzzles are sad because they break up in the end.

 The winter river snakes along the bend 

This dying dance a clash of dissonance 

White noise suffocates the music 

The fumes rise lips burnt from coldness

Cutting eyes peel her away 

Distant words echo from a yesterday like a tightrope walker scaling the boneyard

Quietude stays and drowns the room

And furrows of elapsed time becomes shelter for nightmarish overtones 
And the cellophane, cigarette butts, tea kettle screams, anti vaccine journals, magazines about buying, books retired, forced entries, fallen cities, empires forgotten, the pleasers, dead space, shit storms and this middle ground, the waiting, her loud eyes, pencil shavings, she’s lying and he believes her, that machinery, she’s wired, face to face meetings are a rarity now a days, entire book shelves on dying
A city seen from over her shoulder 

As she launders the distance within her eyes
The phosphorescent glare of wolves eyes 

Bending time towards me 

A sanctuary built over old graves 

Go to sleep I will talk to you some tomorrow from now 

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