the print is stained and on fabric it settles heavy. fabric seams are holy.
, I cant leave her, I would never. I look up and see textile ceiling reaching down to hold me.
there is this time, after dinnerscene
Days passes, I have held her close always; storm passes with heavy rain, I reside elsewhere.
There lies a large bedroom with wooden walls and wooden floor; someplace I had not been before.
Algid howls air past windows; yesterday’s steam ran away.
My room holds me high; as said, wooden floorboards hold my weight.
Garden admires her I see;
I can see her, even from afar.
spider passed
spider has pass-ed
spider passing
in
spidergarden
- Lou
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