V playing cricket. And the short disaster clown mixing an accidental drink. I’ve seen the horse that looks like the dog and the dog that looks like the horse. Bodies dosing corpses, rotting in the salty sunlight. Bearing down on the shoulders of humanoid highways. So many bodies. Twisted and certain fades. Shaved in the shadows swallowing old thoughts. So many movements. The skin’s flora. Scrying my eye strain. Taking her crudite medicine. A certain aspartame. His pharmacopeia mussel shells glistening. The sea seed withering in amorphous broth. The seaweed scourge of sea seed pouring flamboyantly in rounds. Paddle stirred. Hand fasting the meat of Sunday. When we fell in the harbour, Blotting the cotton gowns worn thin. I am a glass leaf perfectly detailed between the damp sheets of minotaur. Bristle breathing. The need understands the growing of teeth and nails. The shellfish, without knowing that knowledge would be sucked away quickly by the current.