Come Back Masking

In midst of all, this busted hovel, the temperate nature of x, smooth mendicancy. When it's then, we’ll go toward fine bodies of water, burglarize lonely and sanguine, busting chops like a long day: mines, rapid skies and hunting movements. My chemicals induce Guilt in volts, in hindsight perhaps, or feelers, as of an old bug found by some pathtaker. Free of copying, of hankering distractions, wheels bop some in-between space.

The ship traverses the map. An older kid makes games, vagabundos, telemetry. Nobody stops him. Planet lumps once more = the way I’m thinking.

In arm strength, come back masking. And when we slowly meet again, there’ll be bones, rattling like old bones, in a can. I wait for you, bathtub my robed fingers, kneeling. My wanting rides the night.

A tang of heavy knife freezes me in a tide. You.