I see the white coughing horse in the moonlight
Its Chestnut speckle grabs ahold of apache tears
I cry for the absence of daddy, these days.
For the cozy how it used to be's; for the break.
The smell of homes past comes through mail
and I wonder, what got us here.
Breasts, swollen, with salt water tide.
On a full moons saddle.
A patient ride.
Swollen, swollen, all my love to mail. I wonder what these little pages say
a mirror refracts the mirrors of moons of gold.
You'll be missed jack and jill candlestick
a dream less interpreted, a laundry room memory
a dream turned nightmare on account of clogged thought.
OOZE OUT LETTER
i dreamt of procuring a lot of leather.