could have been some vocabula affected me

In an example of ample defenestration, I watched aflutter down my little wills and ways. 

If I could have, I want to

Events of a week: evenings, everflowing aways 

my tempered little heartsac. 

Standing, platformed at hours between earlymorning & latenight, darkhair in a face which I wouldn't let wipe away. I body and limbs, hot face parts, mouths. 

Sweat-ed.

"on labels"

I wish to say that I, unlike a computer, or a computer-speaking-language, cannot create such things of beauty as labels, searchable labels that can be alphabetized labels, oh.

Thanks for them, because my life is a better thing now that I can list words like in such ways. Fuck me with ideas a little less, and maybe I'd become pregnant with productions! 

ah

for the ones I didn't forget them

& never will! Luckily I've tightened myself into a spot here, so no matter what happens I can't forget all the everythings. I've ever done, and in particular the everyones. Is to say I kept a record of every second of my life (in offs, and ons of course, for whoever is truly there always & all at once??) So celebrate yourselves. Prettily I try to justify you. 

for #17

perfect examples

coincidence left obsessed,

kiss abyss wanton.

for #10

scent of wind behind

your woolen collar whispered

ignominies in me

for #21

past tenses   again,

fortunately remembered

left to sit dumbly

I can't, for the life of me, contain such elements as are throttling around rasping for grips of air and wanting solace in their solitary existences- all within my little tunnelroom of a brain, so how can I placate them? Am I expected to. I don't even want to know the answer to this question!

words I hate:

silly

belly

grownup

bum

keeping up

for #27

mouth like a comma.

possible wet (but not whet),

washed in whatevers

for #26

ecstatic splosions

abound, unwound tenacious;

fearless in the throes.

I am abandoning thought to drift into the present. I even will refuse my own fun, for my own fun tends at times to drive me away. 

If I was made of it, I'd impress endlessly my own self. 

And just so common

7 June, 1:11 pm

beach house method: 6 7 1 7 6

And just to admit now

that days have been, and not to

remain

throbbing visibly from the

spying. Reminiscing

not am I of his trembling

tempers;

his salt no longer crusts

my lashes. Wearily

(now am I the nervousest,

and

said it isn't mist, it's dust,

and awareness of my

satisfyings, sitting soft

in

knowing forever that I

swim regardless of him.)

(he, an unmentionable

different.)

(he with his name of only

four consonants. Counting not

that one particular

elusive.

A letter for sometimes or

always... The sane, the sane,

the same.)

Hot,

in temperatures, hot not

in heat. Tempered to a

tepid temperance, and the

somehowance

of a superior quiet

around me, if it could

be called it. Because of being

spied,

and maybe the other &

I (,that four-consonanted

fellow & I) could birth one

another

without the shadows; that I'd

like twilight, because with

with with the danish I wasnot

lacking

in twilights or craving for

them, not in he or the

other fellow, the bread-fellow,

he

and his vowels, or anyone

else in worlds/ so it is

happenable; who could care

about

mist anymore anyway,

and who could care to skip

a spying with anyone

on

such a pretty earth; all

the prettiest types and

their prettiest tastes, such differents

when

good, so good, so common.

I wind

6 June

ariel pink's haunted grafitti

I like almost all the world's things. Liking a cool dark, bottomless wish cupping away that it could come by so I would have not but to swallow it down, serviced & de uglified.

I, hearing music having watched long hair, grow through the air, limbs brushing against the wind.

inland seas and others of my favorite things

5 June

I this morning spied the 

twitch out of him, with 

few

ings different in soft & quivering tempers.

He spied me and I spied him. He

lost himself away, 

a 

tergo, and spoke beneath a breath       spy me, spy me, 

spy me,    It was snow; still 

must be peppered     I 

will 

admit

growth in foggy abundances

Nearly torn. Tearly morn, blurry turn. 

turning blur method: 6  5  1  12

5 June

I this morning spied the twitch out of him, literally, with fewings of fingers different in soft & quivering tempers. He spied me and I spied him. He lost himself away, a tergo, and spoke beneath a breath         

spy me,      spy me,      spy me,                                                                   It was snow; still must be peppered

I will admit, I might have idead different intos. 

ospe & llewmlyn  (called llew)

came too, (and after the other characters were introduced (vidag & vadid, then culias as stood shimmering behind a bar); all the faces familiar and good to see, and pretty sure a kiss was quick on the mouth as I was gone only leaving a vermillion collegiate logged up to hop cab with 

a pretty familiar, a different familiar prettily clad, a friend to the house expressly asked for...

A presence, apparently. On the telephone with women, fires to look at. Sun to see up close.