the blueShira Dentz
plunge into trees’ green leaves despite the air and air my mind is warbles in my eye — — the still scape out my window so leaves shake that be part of my day you go to water, it doesn’t come to you, swimming in a reservoir surrounded by mountains like steer in a desert, a blue triangle of water swims in me. remember my nightmare, my father’s face as if it were burned, barely had a face anymore, his mouth rudimentary. mostly flesh with an opening. what does this mean? do i need to take the garbage now? jaws are closing and a fly moves up the window. my mind is warbled warbled warbled warbles in my triangle. trellis of sun, wind, & leaves — — a black and white film plays on a woman’s skin as she stretches below on her towel.
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