suit of today against disproportioned
dolls. There is the sitting outside the glass
window looking into the storefront at
angled mannequins standing insect-still.
Body, like an aluminum pitcher,
a secret, indecipherable language.
like nested Russian dolls and the darkness
is the dawn cold breath of miles spun back
and forth in a pool like a skein of thread;body knifing passage into lukewarm
There are the word clouds. The rewriteabletext of the self, redefined daily. There
like a friend despite what you've heard.