• Vol. 04
  • Chapter 12
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that pimple on the chin?
comes with a trigger you can push from the outside in
makeup forever, pancake, foundation - what a lark!!
cover-up like butter pooled in the late morning of a southern hemisphere's day

collage skin. bladder lamp. macrame muscle

two cotton eyelids and a beard floating like a man leaving his wife
like East Coast Swing in the bottom of a glass as the whole world watches
like pieces of a young girl's togs, wet and defiant with meaning

limbs and brains
limbs and brains into a sea so green it doesn't stop
churn pool of remembering and thunder

clap hands, clap the silence, the pancake applied for one last time at the end
the end of us the end of you the end of the end as we crouched under the water together not even glancing,

sleepy streets. burnt bridges. knitted tomorrows unpicked

moon song
pimple, pancake dripping

small and so big