5 1/2" x 6 1/2"
19 pgs

What goes away on its own
Can come back on its own
Hollowed out and quiet tense
I conjugate privacy and sadness
The myth of language
And a second away from
Being an angel and a microphone
Represent what but nothing
I can do to throw the tow rope
The tall winter light solid crying
Solid singing in the modular
Bric a brac

And now and again it does seem
Important to be saying, to have said,
Participating as no, temperate and right
You can’t just get any kind of sand
Nowheres portfolio the saint van
As piece I deal for university
Exuberance ask turn it all map
Come to a heartbreak the rafters
Could hail, rings on the dresser clock
And together count 50
But it was for such a big one