there are people doing what you do.  houses make a difference.  the age of a bedroom where touching.  where tickled I am against the will of my belly.  am engine and am weight.  am might as well be

feather in the tread of still

a fighting shoe.  of the only pair I torture.  make with me on the powerless boat of night.  drop my jaw to match the microphone of hunger.  

it rolls like a flashlight.