stockholm, eighty-four


lungs like tunnels

can I?

reach inside and braid them pretty


I’m finding it hard to be unglued this week she

feels the same way I think


all the rooms are ten-by-twelve

it’s ok

if you don’t know what the numbers mean just

ride across town and

tell me

it might rain


stockholm, eighty-four: you were screaming

wet walls

new sheets

but I hated the way they tore -–gaping holes—- in the morning now

you’re skipping stones in southern states and I’m

wearing a sweater two sizes too big

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