supine bovine, made of porcelain skeleton
fruit hangs from your neck, and you eat not
buddah looks on, pleased to see
holy creatures fast
i need to go, grab my bags
of you, your skin
not like you, the color is spring sky
oh, but that’s not the go, help me:
how do I do it?
“silk and woven scarves, oh to hang as limp as
they too feel the breath of life pass through
them where their fibers are pulled and tried”
jimmi, jimmi, jimmi
i never stitched your name
the needle stuck, black chino
but some of the chalk remains
how do I do it?
“the steer horn, hung on brown leather
holds flowers fake as you
but certainly more permanent”
shoeboxes full of empty cigarette boxes, photographs, lighters
how do I do it?
pastel dresses don’t tell
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