pour us in for the insides to be nice.
warm and wine and pillow
or at best, series after series
repeated jest, little tickle
pouch of acorn meat dropped
do we well, do we all?
palm to pin
proxy to fog & stumble
& fret at tangle?
gifted with enough lift to raise the human head to it.
pour in and of me
to be warm
torrential sort
frown all tragic
and potential forts
of logic
each list thinks of itself as a play: quite sure of the plot
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