a wall hits and split ends to the minute
each takes and their un-lived dreams’ splintered in halves, and
what emerges between

stumps of bodily fluid and lack of progress, nothing
haunting the thin-lines, thank goodness, but
grease smears and stains of un-nibbled turkey, how

pumpkin spice and splash across a terrain
and leave little imprint, little evidence, of what came
prior to the leaves and their fallen retirement home procedures to the

rain falls just as thoughts are the mimetic reconciliation of sweat-glands, over
time, working, until caffeine replaces sleep, fruits
for adrenalines, veggies for

red meat, it’s that time of year, desiring to stuff
and keep all sweets to ourselves, the bucket
isn’t for anyone but the whole year, but of course

not really is any of it truly except only what it is might be to somebody
what a beautifully well-made movie it was, I said
after watching a mirror destroy people’s lives, it wasn’t
hokey like the others, but close to hokey, the

boring part of moving is
anticipating until the actual day, incline
slow mass object, called
psychological component to the detail, outside
a car

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