The World of Erosion, Section Two

2

"coming he wants to render himself invisible - "
back a ways under green weight I had overheard steel urban thunder;
dogs that tip-toe and try - maybe repeat after me, the pronouns, prepositions, o your cendelabra, so she she, a way to mix the wet sand over my forearms, we're to wait for the tide to weep in, greater ones we might not have imagined as mothers, I head it but the passion is clayed...

coldly smiling, you know

you,

number one on the list,

your wet sand cracks off,

it is evening.

it tends to roll out very uniformly, necks with no stitches, physical beauty, self-romance.
the busses come breathing along with a lung of engine. storm. water wind come go. your option, to work at sleep, at night, something...fell.
such professional limits you set I can't imagine to know you at all, and there is fright, of the people, of the words, saying the sentences, presenting the face -
another option, that onion face, but anonymous...look, look, what will the fool find, burning his eyes?