Parading

It’s only the nighttime

pouring into the breast’s day. Sunset, love. The thousand
pouring into the breast’s day. Sunset, love. The thousand
pouring into the breast’s day. Sunset, love. The thousand
exits. The thousand ways to know your elbow / from your ass. —Patrick Rosal
exits. The thousand ways to know your elbow / from your ass.
—Patrick Rosal

atoms

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