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Autumn Linder

Why, yes, black velvet late
leaf plaster, scrobiculate chip and tar
and heir presumptive. Weight fleeting,
and how. And come back should
frost graves, arbor vitae,
frost mouthing concurrent full
and. Full and.

Heir to, I presume.
From within, the scar on the skull births
a staple, a disturbed, blackened
rice grain. Heir to. If I’d answered much
solidifying still

guileless, grave,
come back. Capture this, yes without
mind most moments
ribbon tie, claw,
and in. And in the way

in the hands. The way of the hands. Doubtless,
be the one still standing,
if pinballed, matching near-atonal plunges
akimbo. And the way in
falls short, a chip and tar
intended for everyone, as for an hour was she was
and as such not remotely

gingerly. Runs the frozen
rimming the canyon the fastest, fabric
way she was herself in your
raw greens and no one
considers it apt entertainment

I don’t believe that.
You weren’t there. Sturdily
wrong, friend or otherwise downfall,
the one on my mind the one not taken
to its logical
scant, consider this lit
birthday the making loss of
and if I were to talk in would you
call it a dream
a weed in the median
a vowel boot camp phlebotomy
we are port, lee, 451, we are as
the childhood vacations were trains.