Sometimes A Pie Looks Like Just
You are not a fuckin' orpheus. This piano has an attenuate. Together it is no different
I appeal to regions. I recall conditionals. Together it is a piece of film.
You do not standardize. It is no longer defunct. Retrieve pieces of these
From the din. Flashbirds, flexing. My god knows you're sometimes social.
It is never reverse, no. It is never trying itself fit for you lookers of back,
Nothing about this isn't less innocuous as making an afternoon tea with you.
There, it is un-falling. Because sometimes pie can be just as its simplest piece.
I appeal to regions. I recall conditionals. Together it is a piece of film.
You do not standardize. It is no longer defunct. Retrieve pieces of these
From the din. Flashbirds, flexing. My god knows you're sometimes social.
It is never reverse, no. It is never trying itself fit for you lookers of back,
Nothing about this isn't less innocuous as making an afternoon tea with you.
There, it is un-falling. Because sometimes pie can be just as its simplest piece.
Labels: Cirilo Bautista, Sylvia Plath
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