I want to pile my bones up and kick them over.
The very top of my skin is shivering.
People should quit their routines.
Plants are living things. Sometimes you and a plant are alone in an unimportant moment.
It is like Jehovah playing mandolin next door. The God awful music. You quit your job
and lie naked against the wall.
It is the bravo of light on shower knobs.
It is the tendril flower.
Note to myself: words are the doors to your gorgeous world.