friend,

The protocol is John. orphanage wasn’t nothin but uh warehouse strung up w dock lights n nets to keep th babies from wanderin out ta sea.  warpen th tides rocked/rookie, and we don’t got nowhere to be,

playin violins walkin by motel windows lettin in the wrong channel breezes and rat stink sunsets the strip over but smellin niagra falls from the roof, a good clean escape.

lite cumz on

storag’ll burn it wet it crumble limpit dust bang hollow’d luck if it lives

When I had no one, I went to you. It was an anniversary in the fall of 1654 that I remembered you had survived when everyone else had died. eye bin linchd bin drawn n quartrd bin shuffld out had no place left ta go. Down th road w no end. Down th lifelicking centuries long highway flanked n protected by gas station guadians

th warz r lawng. Every war is long as evry girls uh saint ruby lighthouse of what is just n unjust. I got tickets for a fight, got money on the fight, got two chances outta bethlehem n gonna ride west to die inna street that ain’t uh street yet fer uhnuthr 600 yeerz. When the weather comes down, the mouth of the world closes me in. A fella doesn’t like to admit defear but kid, when you’re dead yer ded roastin flipside w the maggots. The only way out of death without fangz is ta let th middle take you.

stretched across them white mountain ravines th choiring rawks edge sung in time w my lonely ghosted hart.

th light cumz on

With surrender came a chance to rest. As a ghost, I could slide through my days and nights in seconds of gray, not knowing where all my lovers had gone. I could sit with you and watch you drink your milk on your time, millenia passing as you drew in charcoal your first mermaid. Learnt stillness learnt slow learnt that nobody got any place to be no mattr how their hearts race ta finish. The tomatoes go cold. heet yer tea. kiss her tiny fingrz. minutes long as my hair no war long as this love here where you sho me kindness got room to breathe. gotta get slow to get vibrato like that. wasn’t nobody rushin their bow around th strings tryna scream sound from tension. it goes slo.

leyet comes awn

I joind up real fast two tour ricketshaved bulletmaster general ded bfor 30 meant disappear means bein w you held in th rosin lockd in th closet folded into th chest backseat damp hairstuck to our cheek

loveclyde

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