turning

and if first was important you would have said so, I’m sure of that…

she, always in touch, always in two, drawn into barren approaches, like the smooth, dim light that flickered… flick, flick, a whip to any form of celebration…. can you imagine a move made “give me a break” she wanted to say, but “give me” was a stretch for her loopholes, dug at dawn for the everlasting onslaught that we call nowadays, back then you could call it an opening in the wall, she thinks of secret pushovers and winces,

first things first, a skyhook for beginnings or agnostic primaries

then again, was it so bad after all, the falsetto of a double pitched o,

as if never again could a reach be taken so seriously… “follow me” is easy to hear, this is the way: down the road, turn left, life

but if I consider any kind of preamble it would be this: do not under any circumstances rehearse that turning