So we bought a packet of cigarettes.
I don’t smoke
We do – All those things
lie sleeping in
some designated waitin groom of my cortex
(next) How long?
Approximately 80 years
–
I
predict.
Yours is less
(that is not my opinion, that is statistics.)
You made it? Well
You made me –
Go
Fetch-
The candlestick with your initials on (has not been lit.
I keep it in my wardrobe / in the pocket of my mum’s
weddingdress / amongst the grit
and the crumbs.)
That’s how the cookie falls apart.
Crumbles and staines.
Puff, blow to the candyheart
sweet more than smokey
Almond 001 (I was fair once)
I think you are lush
The brush (covered in icing)
Skates, strokes
over valleys and hillbillies
Son of a preacher.
Sun of my prayer (days before the Reformation)
Layer by layer the marzipan image comes off
I pulled it off.
(bad quality)
The sugar thinned out
(I licked it off, you know.)
What
a pretty ensemble
Undone by my tongue.