Rope for your planet and your pants dangling! Its the time of deer.A nd the nieced hounded nephew. Do you love these things? it's the brain . THe cerebral Franny her voice as tiny as love's bumper. A sapphic woman leaning into her neighbor's hair. A lesbick tooth cast on the lawn. If campfires are learning peace then sapphire mothers hold their word. Not the head covered mummies! O Mona take off your clothes

and the newspaper lent their support. and the pillars and community and the Thracian guarding the hour and blood that growls stands yet forever ridden to its love and the skins which mirror the moment of their turning and over this and those we've seen those bent moved along to the hale spheres of the sky And since you mentioned it Mona had marrow for every sweeping tongue