city, in which the body is disappearing.
city, in which the aorist is resurrected.
city, in which I cultivate disparation.
city, in which the body permeates know.
city, you are rampant in the earlobes. a staple
furnished blithely in a tree.
city, you are Freudian in your constancy.
city, you are the permutation. of go.
_
city, in which the feet stutter reckless.
city, in which the vertigo is unnamed.
city, in which the throat throws persimmon.
city, in which the sheets are an impediment.
city, in which I trouble you, like rain.
city, in which the surface is disappearing.
city, in which the manhole never leaves you.
city, in which the visible is a treachery.
city, in which her hair breaks, like shame.
city, in which the whitewash is receding.
city, in which the finally falls out.
in which the body is neither promise nor
kindness nor dare. city, in which my back is newly token.
city, in which the broken are uneven.
even and faithfully bound.
_
city, in which your fists are a miracle.
city, in which there remain 2 types of teeth.
city, in which we revision a thankful girder.
city, in which the violin is a fever.
a girder we must fashion from our teeth.
for the city in which the falling has already happened.
city, in which the arm of every chair leads with leave.
city, in which you protect things by erasing them.
city, in which my tongue is frozen black.
city, in which the brachial is unnerving.
city, in which your hand is opportunity.
city, in which your hand defines my back.
_
city, in which she will look hard and look harder and unsee me.
city, in which I tend not to play music.
city, in which I desperate to become unseen.
city, in which these hands are my hands when I hold you.
city, in which I love you is a belt coming down.
city, in which the cement arrived in us.
city, in which smaller sounds prevail and I abuse them.
city, in which my mother says son.
city, in which there are 2 fingers. 2 fingers and no space in between.
arrive in us, contact, arrive.
city, in which my mother says you to me.
city, in which my father says none.
_
city, in which I know nothing about the pressure a woman reels
depending on the placement of her knees.
city, in which you were putting on your clothes.
city, in which the ears were a cacophony.
city, in which we know the gentle lungs are working
by the way the breath abandons the troubled mouth.
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