also, a list of names, waking to relief that i knowed the good ones. embarrassed i recounted, deaf ears, meaning little to nothing.

dracula and i are weerily useless, sleepy hearing affirmations and i thought with love, noticing unexpectedly, about the babies taking first steps. slightly gaunt in summer shorts i rubbed my eyes and said some things, forgetting what.

the projections of a plan, starting: diagrams of diversions, consistently humiliating and utterly silently private, keeping to myself the ways i can lie out a chart of one through 26.

getting feckless with my words, now, it's ten until two. divided into three, segment i agree on your beauty, drugged into brevity and walked away. a quick look in seven or eight wrong directions, the wrong smile, having been misplaced in nearsightedness. dark and beachy, a sleepy confession toasted, one and two sets of twins, i manifested a double, know it's really you, and both of yous knows it too.

today i remember many stories, wnt to hear? wandering how my mind's just gone blank; but imagines a project with an optimistic start, catching it at just the right time's a most importants.

February

i've got it, finally, mostly sure: subtle and pitiless, me, dried eyes almost like they felt that way all along. less and less of myself feeling, oh, again, and you! i see you, those birds have confused the natural progress of things, little chickens hatching in a shiver, february now, two days of holidays and i figured that magic would have it that today something clicked in, romantic and predetermined. i heard the error in the day, saw you, back to that: i know i'm the only one who has seen that your eyes and your lips match exactly, oh and your skin, and the color of your hair too, all of them sitting there in plaid. pretty, in th eopen window of a valentine hangover, the beautiful one though, woke up with fingers sleeping in warm absences, too perfect not to ruin.