I can’t take vicissitudes. We’re staying in.
Appointment by haircuts.
This was a no-no but we always will.
New wilderness outdoors traces
a wistful landscape, hum-vacuumed,
cuddling escalations in body movement, ledgers of faces.
Lucky you and I live on, fudging abasement
in clean confinement serving a purpose within
supernumerary states of being (confined). Nevertheless
gastronomy is to breaking the ice as ‘fucking / sponginess’ is
to bacchanals.