she drove the bread truck into the ocean.
dehydrated grackles on the verge of sarcasm.
the pilot encouraging her with promises of fashionable purity. I didn't know lust could be anything but physical. fitting into jeans on the floating world. next to an uprooted tree, seeing the rain. blurting out in unison with silver ribbon flickering past through an imagined battlefield. whispering dead center the lament of a foreign orgasm.
the mouth,
never mind.
the typical bed squints its coffee stained grind, and all over it.
I didn't know the alternative. a candy interface for angst, frivolity, and deception. the words plopped like wet loaves to the pavement.
I should have known.

And Away We Go 3
words and 2 images

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