Girl goes home, goes down, a slippery symptom. Boy declines behind haircut, unfair across its table, vast, flat, table, tipping, lost, left, a peach. Free in time and heart before four, they're mediterranean, a listed number. Particular, open, improbable, lichen, long eared, overhead, parallel. I hear the clanging just out of reach, my thought following. Bitten by. Broke. It's too young, the rose that blocks my window. I mean to last.


 

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