24. It Is So Stifling Hot

Very                         He is gated to evening
good                         The moon notes our enjoyment
                                I nearly do not need to say what
to be                         this consummation looks like
                                Looking is spread on the floor
in                              a bright new straw mat that polishes
together                    insignificantly invested in the room

There was one woman left in that broken day, in the bed, in her
Lover his after
She is quilted in darkness, her head a violet decision
like the lining is a long gown
A woman who looks like rest: stiff silk, dark red, untied
How long her hair to possibly imagine

in                              In the Seventh month
a                               when the doors of night are kept open
frozen                        Dawn and the pale ribbon of a moon, a luminous plait of straw
                                 An evening gown the color of a frozen outdoors
color                          the color of a woman sunk into crimson

All the doors are held open
Measure the volume in one slat of the moon
A woman in bed took a vacation you’d love
She is absorbed into an orange dress
a sunken high red, rigid silk
its cords seem to hang as if they were left to solve the gown itself
Strong lichens in cascade introduce themselves
Her hair longs to be itself, in free fall

The                             The lattices of July open, a month that awakens to time
                                   I, when there is no month even, enjoy that
dark                            The dawn wakes as a sliver of a month
                                   I almost do not have the necessity or perfection of how to say this
magenta                      The bright new straw mat where I laid it
                                   exactly on the part of the floor that is well liked
                                   The dawn has met in bed with the woman
                                   Gloss as, you attach a hard silk to the kind of woman who sleep
is                                 to be solved
                                   His codes catch loosely at her side, the dark magenta
                                   of morning’s body
solved                          Her own hair rethinks her

The type of hours that wake us up in July
An entire month of skies thin
In order to see a splitting
you will go out to the place, and you will sleep
and you wipe yourself from falling inside
In the new straw mat, you see how fact likes the polished floor
An early aspect of hazard in the room
The permissions in women, innumerable difficulties
delay the capture of dawn
The luster and sleep solved in orange
Thick and empty
autumn name trades in place of her hair

A                                 He will leave and sleep will clean her
month                          He is accuracy spread out before you
of                                Exchange wheat for the dawn
skies                            and see how much fact likes you then
end                              Regard where you sleep in that hard silk place
                                   just the magenta side of darkness
in her                           The commerce in her autumns

When consideration is a type of daylight
a divine signal looking for cracks in us
Your he will stay behind only as a form of place
the You he sleeps with and cleans
He will be accurate and disseminate you
You will think that love only occurs in daybreak
the dangerous disturbance in his song
First hunger, later fact
A code nearby, its darkness carmine softly seized the body
A name left inside of her hair

A                                 Because the signal of God illuminates order
                                   and the sky is a month’s worth of conclusions
name                           Cracks in their glances become speech
                                   Because you are new in the way you see fact, dawn
left                               Sleep concerns the retention of place
                                   As for him, the body captured in a gown
behind                          a scarlet vicinity, darkness grasps them quietly
                                   Place falls in tresses making that it possible

This maintenance and all regard bitten into this place
when the night is hot and inspected like a problem in July
The shedding of blood is quite uniform
Speech ends in cloth chapters
the cracks illuminate the shape of his mind
Out of purity and grudge you sleep
the human race sorry under accuracy
Your he: a straw mat placed on the polished floor
You peel from several dawns, trivial rooms
Finally, daybreak will be able to perform as though you were a woman
Countless permissions and the bed is difficult
Affection, aromatic, dark violet
You retain a sleep on you in orange, high and decided
My problem is with the hours found in possibility
Regard the will above writing as it falls from her sides

Slit                              Maintenance, concern bite into the place where the night is hot
                                   Announcement illuminates
in                                Substitute conclusions for months pasted to the sky
                                   In place of their words, fabric chapters
the                              and a slit in the shape of a word
                                   You sleep inside resentment and purity
shape                          The You that peels because of you
                                   The problem of attachment
of                                depends initially on an advance into dangerous rooms

A song thinks back on its own disturbances
in unimportant rooms
Innumerable permissions, and reading is difficult
Affections, aromatic trees affect the meaning of words
The color of sleep, the color of loss
attached to a hard silk, high and undecided
The width of writing, its thickness
a name that trades in the autumn of her braids
She shook from her hair: his name

Because                       Replace two pieces of an hour with suffocation
                                   the summary of months without a sky
                                   In place of certain words, how a fabric chapter ends in slits
of                                The human races asleep under the accuracy of time
                                   Corn, its straw, because of the place
this                              The accomplishments of women and collecting
                                   Text read with innumerable permissions
                                   our inclinations to mean: a new gloss
place                            Her autumns beneath the lichens of this place

We suffocate under examination
when the hours put on their boots in order to catch fire
Blood loss from the evening as dawn, evenly
Walls are compulsory indoors
an attempt to conclude months, to end the sky
Place sentences into cloth chapters
The sleep we construct in resentments and purity:
our straw limits
The you that descends because of you
Study the outlines of our method songs
The rooms are made enormous when they are locked up with women
The color of sleep, the color of loss
A woman the color of that silk attached to difficulty and is solved
A body the size of an hour, fussy about food
The will above writing, sufficient thicknesses
Autumn braids itself into place

                                   July will inspect your questions until you suffocate
braided                        Conclusions: a cotton chapter, blood loss, her internal months
                                   Resentment is pure
into                              You do with sleep what you want
                                   Straw pleated to its limits, for example
                                   Seated on this country’s edge, we advance to a dangerous room
another                        invested in our method songs
                                   Opposition a ratio more enormous than place

Locked into innumerable permissions
go and assemble a woman, a fragrant axis
her dark eyes purple, participles yawn around her
The protections in orange, sleep the color of a woman’s blood loss
the difficult places are solved
The body, its food
travel in a lump of darkness: the automobile
Writing as far as possible nearby
Place braided to autumn, a falling reduction of possibility

When                           Walls tighten around our internal months
                                   when the conclusion of the sky is mandatory
difficulty                       Cotton chapters end, torn from form
                                   the place and the route into you
                                   Hostility and accuracy purify our sleep
looks                            Higher numbers advance into the room with questions
                                   In order to satisfy the axis where fragrance is similar to her
                                   A new lip gloss, the color of loss
like                              A woman the color of rough silk
                                   The body depends on a concern for food
                                   corded to the darknesses underneath her skirt
                                   Whether problems request my time in writing
fact                              Writing, representation: a possible address
                                   The autumns that are braided into her hair