all their palaces are temporary palaces; hear imagining them. there is no absolute saffron. horizon’s pronouns are they and ours and are contingent upon the full spectrum of beaming yellows and golds around them. go there. whose shiver is this? honesty is the best policy if it is your truth to be truthful about. raw, overloaded nerves like every which way their hair goes in gusts. you can feel the sucking of the opening and closing of her heart’s valves. just be sensitive to it, suspend the ringing in your ears, you are the metaphor in this corner you backed yourself into. you being i. hit a lick. honestly, can you imagine the palatial sound in them living their best truth? don’t know what jopappy’s saying, but i know what he talkin’ bout. can’t wait until the sweetest frame. if you’ve seen nothing else from bathing in the warm sun on big rock, it’s don’t out people, get their consent first. cut.

up in the corner for your bumrush. tax the filthy rich until their teeth buzz, and they buzz somebody up. a constabular break of tree line. engaging the center from the perspective of the margins. aren’t you bored with painting facts? wish i could turn that sense of being watched off. white suburban moms got a brutal way of creating power differentials. trick better have my gate money. antique wire-rim glasses ride the tip of her nose to marrakech. the math is dubious, but it bounce around and crunk between your ears. got an inconceivable body. got a sense of bumrush in every corner of my being. inordinate timing and off the scale chromatics. cold chillin’ in an existential crisis. until morning train whistle with arrival. then again, where i’m from black men usually don’t live to see their grandchildren.

fucked ’em up and made a black section in the middle of the white only. put the resonances in first and built around ’em. you feels the logic in these bars and reevaluate. unplug one, unplug two. playas around here shootin’ shots for shots until the patrón gone to the head. by contrast, women overall accounted for about forty-seven percent of the total labor force. how you have to clear the nose to open the head. this the music we untighten up with. the borders between gay and straight are as porous as the membranes in your nostrils. do beans burn on the grill? the masses have always remained more or less indifferent to culture in the process of making something transformative. by contrast in this force, got some black on my total account and an overall unfuckwittable section. go gets my pistol. the grouses are oblivious and don’t even know they know they are flying. against a brilliant subtext as nuanced sun. lil’ daddy’s spatial imagination grown interplanetary on mountain fresh air and watermelon.

from the outside out. first and foremost, never mind. her eyes like an imminent meadow. where does the vase of dead daffodils come from when you’re dreaming of (more or less) discrepant engagements? shivery at the needle exchange. closed blossoms turn in on themselves, hum thinly on a shallow level of broken cycle. give me a minute to concoct a more convincing lie. cousin the fam hardly talk about, and when that name’s mentioned, that auntie in the wheelchair always cracking nuts just shake her head. diffused moonlight. the body likes familiar touches. have you ever seen such a sign of the times? how an outside breaks out and blossoms into a bridge beyond cycle for us. today is as good as any day to refuse that which has been refused you. let’s take a moment and review the hypotenuse. the feminine present active participle of the verb to stretch below. worse comes to worst, the moral of the story is the guy gets the girl in the end to introduce him to her thick, little brother.