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Decomposure
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Hour 11
Walking hatched ribs set on an airport conveyor belt with dead oystergrey birds cupped within each meatbelted basin, songs disconnected from first blink and strewn across the pale corn wandering for food to breathe, each furnished with a screwdriver to pry open his stubborn epiglottis and ring a corresponding egg cup's careful palm with marble shells blooming a kindled swallow and survey with fleshrimmed glasses the aquarium's domino current through starspun exposure, future noise and present accordion swung girders' tomorrowpractice. gelpunched and perched even with the blinds drawn
It's not defense if you're holding the ball. that sticker's not an iceberg, it's the hilt of a sword
Crawl white pawns in dirty shadow while the grid is quicksand blonde to spit their shells earthspoken for the rain's fading glow diverted from the dry meniscus tide grass' edged in the dark hollow cavities moaning stream through the creamy extruded lathe wallet presets linked on the table at the back. whitepetal tongue bus pass drops with your necksack, making a sound like a ceramic plate being scraped by a butterknife your shackled shadow sold from your coal and backpracticed thumbs ripping a rictus wide open the distance between real and realistic so birds eat onions.
Turn hearts into attacks and a cross into crosshairs principles, not polls. she kit mobile behind bat seamstress manor upsetting a truckful of nails around my personal campfire molten contact raised above its brow, a knock at freedom friend foyer fishing frantic static and rush beneath the falling billowed foot on the vessel eyehanger hall knots lured from berber beds to displace elbows in hats and cushion skirting knuckles held alternating for certainty. mandatory options only a painted cel of a cartoon animal dithers to gruel and cheekbitten chatter picking the taste of sadness' sweet burrs from its tongue i'm not sick anymore, yet: 'a million miles away' crouches around a fire or stone overbite correction. circle in squares, smokestack newsprint nails daddy longlegs rising from klodhopper corduroy but bubbled under thumbs as while greenhouse hair. vegetable bagged safety and mouse mug, earwigs lighting apartments on fire and nepotism ignites onion dome mace under tightened cheekbones.
Pale yellow daydrunk, coins flipping on pools of ink in glistening velvet and a gaze like planks resting on the horizon, summer's empty churches and the chicken trucks cut the sleeping town
Unaligned features, waterlife, pinched peach pie crust bulb thinning wet fingertips and puppet arms in matte foil green hallway in the thicket behind my left year committee seatbelt caught out the door red picnic tables
A calculator with word buttons or amphibian air quotes sharing the same dim torso and mosaictattooed sunken face
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'You know, these people are nice, but they're just very...' boxcarred as long vowels inking handout jacket holes with the flick of one smoky hand and my mosscovered back turned.
Pace four hundred metre rain floating coy greenblack attack moth Find more lyrics at ※ Mojim.com to orange snapshots channel swap as perpetual draft over a couple teens singing soundless in the wind, one hand firm along the dark church walls.
Obsolete in an endless compound gym, and leaving through the trophy case into that same green hall, where magnetic monoliths hovered warily in blowout sunlight, suddenly spinning and aligning to hug a ghost in the black endlessness of saturday morning. it spreads out on the table like a pointed cliff: greybeard and left row window dimming, vocab by erasure.
Mall a mill churning dust as an endless subway sigh stretched across the pathless winter fields, new years' bleak and songchoke striped, frozen knees planted in night a blind tree surgeon printing rust in the sheets a full beige stalled ocean chalked on the hopscotch apart thanks to variable windspeed static comb tugging the pebble past block letters and january death to fall unsolved but open with thin three by fives halted herring crusted under inkjets unreal and unmoving in their cushion.
Caught tender beyond breathing the shapeless ellipsis my topteeth point the way the tide is inscribed behind my forehead and land warm woven in my own theatre, nudging balance bundle as true night begins, and an internet ice age moves behind us to lock down the debris, and first snow's sanded grey sawdust of remainder driftwood frames the road as a black-and-white photograph hidden under the floorboards
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Stationary engines running black lungs stale, nowhere but sideways to go. past this point nothing grows.
You awake uncertain in your car surrounded by millions in cars thickset on every side a single cell in a sheet of sealed silver bricks, all jammed handle to handle to the hem of the sky
It's harder bridging a lot so tightly parked few can hope to depart and consolidate a map of the marks of living threading these aging tarps, extending arms in the dark to wear silence like a winter coat but written in the breath of some faraway windows are rumors of a liquid that dissolves upholstery and metal like sugar if you only could see it and flood the floor and lose your spot to find the edges in all that you're functioning through
Treeline dawning
Square
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