she dotted lines and caught on stripes
like lightning bugs on power lines.
stepping between endless ending bells,
friendly welts you shed then let me felt,
depths Id tell every pool shark Id ever meet.
plastic-beds are warm to us on-and-off psilocybin freaks.
photographic dyes slip off your thighs...
i'm not so bad for an iconoclast,
im just lost from signs we took for local autographs.
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