candles (1)

make monkey, your
mostly confirmed astolat of
breaking chimneys with
wide sweeps of impromptu
corn dancing. stop. you’re not
all right. it’s only a clowder
if the contours are purring.
something like that you can’t
smell rapture when it’s
changing shape, making giggles
and undoing its belt.


here’s to having a little nonsense. 

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