a sad nightmare, getting weepy now. aprevious holiday, artfully seeping sabotage. winds roar hidden in an sheltered spot, a grass sleeping horizontally, living in the seventh day of fall, halloween looming phosphorescent.

misery is a song

as a little one, sleepily singing in shady sun, a day that could be just perfect, and is it? difficult in telling at present. a drenaline, a screaming neighbor, spooky and, anothe rone.

i asked you what you were thinking about, sitting on a sidewalk, chalky hands, said, just thinking about her, what she's doing. i'd forgotten how simply a tiny mind can work, en joy at knowing i can usually know, now, exactly what's at the edge of it.