Seven days
laid out in a lawn.

Leaven air in ways
that we can smell at day

It's only shade
when fires burn at eve

It's the only way...
air breathes, too much for us to grieve.

Every day a blade of grass doesn't sell it's soul to a ****
is a day that happens at every evening when we need
it most

So long ladle ladled parchment paper packages
can ladle me a bit?

Flickered into corners,
on the edges of evening doorlights.

Flattered, happened, and upheld
I had centered myself

and sold my soul
to a crossroads man.

Pressed, in leaves of vinegar and soy sauce.

Sensed, believe were me of essense.
The sense that umami came from within.

I found you in the crack
on the sidewalk.

Like an ant who had feared fire and loved honey you shoved me into a space. a little hole.

a foley.

a space-sent lollipop propped
up on
edges of heaven surged beds.

Instead I'll meld, build, and set upon places.

I know we're all poor so instead of wealth,
our award will be people and faces.

Walking in the witching hour
is better left for those that should.

Schelping in a helping of life with a belly
full of meal should
be understood as awful.

Bellywake.
Incantation should me wake up just for dinner?
I know I'm a sinful being
so seeing me is all you have to
deal with...

Time to make an hourglass,
Time to pass all feelings...

Time make sure that we
feel
all of Earth.
her underkneelings.

Time to take a second chance
and not hate life so much.

Time to plant some flowers.

It's time to make it such.