Clay-toned physiques
fighting the relative fight waving, receding on one another

— everybody under an influence indoors, thoughts that are filthy.

A foot of snow from the window. Laps of water are filled with light, rotating in
reverse as if knowing how to purify their offspring & manage forever
in lurches of nibbling torque adjusting ..

You may notice I’m on the side of zest, the construction of meaning in your arms,
and oomph — one long eyebrow (for wingspan), fuzzy and continuous with the present that has no purpose, just falsetto in your eyes.