Saturday, April 28, 2012

Lemon Lime Pickle

Better will ensue and of open spaces live through
   to estranged thresholds who by bunches uttered.

Clear they stand among such dresses as the needle
   work kept starved. Are trembling aesthete dances.

Could fashion a pillow pinch of rags. For what that
   the bunting might divine about such tender labors.

Among the solid things like beauty by the moment
   of hands closed on astonish thief in tiny fragments

of hectic morning. The percolator is purring. To be
   slung too, if stretched center between the brains

in disarray. Slough presumptions. Ambitious to be
   she, a mere delightful being of such complexity.

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