Friday, March 15, 2013


Can you control the sun in your hair?
The way it curves, the way you wear
you shirt wrinkled.
I like that kind of mess.
The dysphoria is a fondue mountain.
Come and wrap me in prosciutto
and we will eat our way out
into a dark cave
mingling with microorganisms,
it gives me micro organisms.
The machinima sends chills
a thoughtless prism onto the east.
If it ever eloped to the west,
we would be in trouble.
It may be a good thing if California sank
into the sea.

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