lively blue took time too- to throw them. we were clocking silver round rue. dollar plates wrapped in yarn. pitch pots. unlike licked sheeps wool, it took on the character of rollerscape lines, dollar platter snake-nape design. Sometimes i try to roll my toungue and a yellow filling feeling comes up my… wrapping in silk sliding wind in the tunnel, the yellow lights lie, i feel coming up my. was i always reminded of the one time i see them blaring, brineing through the cill of my window. on that pane rested fruit pits discarded and cards that even i particularly remember the ash tray smile. gold glass, someone once filled it with ash, but from a fire, i think it was a joke, in farstep-haste, but it was too similar to what i already do to be a ruse and i knew it to be. they of course, as they do forgot me, well and i never did, forget them – unwell, there on the damp sheets, as i gazed on the bread crust musings of my once astonishingly reversed acquaintance. I feel them coming up, it was as I remembermbered and i amend my slouch, globs of glass now fall down gowns of ash worn as a pit.