there is a bridge that i pass before i arrive at the zoo

since before then; it has been

the fabrics that are the hold

the third floor in the third of the year

where three letters are the same as the whole thing

and then we met violet

because the table lends us the discussion

and from here we take the stairs
and sign our names
and head to where we were going

on the road that lead us from the field

conically (that is)

m becuase it was on the papers that i save. m because it arrives with henry.

i would go there when i remembered to look
twisting at the numbers next to my miniature window
and there i would find her
a typewriter in box zero four three seven

in the morning over coffee we spoke of a waxy portalia

there was a softening edge to the thing
tugging at the thirty fifth metallic knob
an open thinning drawer
i know of a silver lined row boat
i know this is monday

when i could not fall i looked for the switch. and without it to grab i worshed my hands

eyeing the gelatinous gussets
and toeing at the edges of a canister

before entering the loshing foam
and kicking along heaving churns
to find there is not the exit i had imagined

down and around and down the hill and before the sea; galette complete

feet carrying stairs
knowing i am here
the pressed teeuck opening
him emerged
holds his gaze
for me to look at
and to look at
and return

she spoke with her plate
the running yolk of an egg
and when she knew we would not return
she made for us two more
and she smiled with her hands stretching to ours
and so we took the plates to the sea
where we sat
chatting as if she was there with us

(there) is a v in this compote

with pillows like those scarves
(during an evening we lay)
with windows like their eyes

i don't know how many there are but if you ring that button they will let you in

a father a son a mother
take the morning by the river

while the others
these two are
on their way
to breakfast

burried toes in the seams of our sail

and to begin
a garden on the edge of a wood
knowing it's in the black below the white that things will grow

and to find
an arch on the edge of a town
knowing it's in the white below the black that things will grow

and to end (up)
a pair of hands on the edge of a bell tower
knowing you're semi (t)here

either way you or i or they pronounce it.... it is we who are going up.

a pause of our mid-scan voyage

to do this before we get to that

epols (as if here) slope