the manufactory of a strong resemblance is not the engine of this irony
|1.) interstitial cultural covalence|
We've only ever ever aftered and never ever before that. In the bathroom by the bed the light has a bulb and the radiator smells like bleach sitting on sweet varnish. Your personal angel stopped by like a dried up horse with awesomed teeth and a very sad apple. I was almost sixteen. It was autumn, same as now. It was cloudy, same as now.
I saw the poem you scratched into the sink Here is the rose of this day Here is its stalk tethered to the sky Each petal yawns at its own profundity Its nip of dirt Its spray of tongue The pig of my arm is a demon with a single bright tooth and a broad flat smile It easily finds the loam of my length in the passions of this clay Where is this rose of plenty so like your promises Like promises if they were pennies H...