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I am inside this flag Across stained taxi cab seats the window broken in wrong places so the rain. With a dress like that leave it up to the eyes. Stuck in the door a little silver a little language so I can feel the weight of each drop on my umbrella. Come here my heart etched in tree trunks, the wind catalyzing undoing, apples served as sauce. To explain the light away I hold a handkerchief of the softest silk blend. Can I retexture the smile not meant for me, will the museum lock its doors promptly even though I am inside. This flag I know burns to the bone. Suppose my one day off contains shiny hinges and can fold at free will. Crack of the fortune cookie last call ringing through the bar — I love the actual story, once you wipe your makeup off. How much I want to touch your cheek, from across the room, does not matter; the contents of the doggy bag making the dog sick. Goodbye hail storm, goodbye thick stalks of flowers. When I sail the boat I end halfway through the musical, the snappiest number, meet me here. 26 ] ...

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