Wednesday 8/25/2010 02:34:00 AM

her conspiracies taut. like rubber bands ready to snap. portions she says. bits of meat. decaying in her hand. forests. thick on the horizon. lost kites. and painted summers. i can only remember in black and white.

the ball bounces. the fist forgets. the taste. of stern walls. determined to say nothing. evern as her face tells all. The steps evolve. Their betrayal not unexpected. The picnic bakset is literal. The characters extraneous.

The proverbial cellar lurches into view. A long trip down. To places i'd rather not visit. The propeller. The chop of the blade as the engine tenses. The depth of the ocean irrelevant. As i struggle for the surface.

failing again.

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