Thursday, December 8, 2011

If I Have Presented Myself As Not Fallen

Between stars and clouds, the moon. A dog's paw, crusted with blood. River sounds, trains sounds. Turning the corner, the smell of cinnamon. I am always going.

Always at one without knowing? The mentalist guessed my zip code from 1974. Between stars and clouds, unbroken darkness. If I have presented myself as not fallen, forgive me. Forgive my spelling.

Be aware of how verbs work in your sentences. Don't be jealous, it's a waste of time. Be willing to love your enemies or at least understand why someone else might. Saints is as saints does. The more practical model might be Mennonites.

At the beginning with lilies. Between stars and shreds of cloud, the memory of a dead dog. Passing the river, at one with fear. Bad things were done and I won't let them go. Withered apologies are thin gruel indeed

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