[Our letters were like inventing the steam engine]
Our letters were like inventing the steam engine
So one morning in a derelict station
Someone could open a café
To sidle is a motion bringing one closer regardless
Letters like strawberries on a plain cloth
I stay on the smaller balcony
Pull the curtain around the gardenia
There’s a lemon under that bowl
[Bicycle in vines]
Bicycle in vines
Child singing with mouth against the window
A way of seeing out
Shh somebody says, so she begins to whisper-sing
How does it alter the view
If I eat everything walking, can I make the river
One with small pockets sewn on an orange skirt
She and I’ll be at the river
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