only intermittency will have been washed

you are responsible while I am in repose

the picture on the wall occurs to me

I branch when you agree to cease extending past
the fragile opus of my winking sops up royalties

do these gloves belong to you just when the copasetic integers
begin retaining water

we have happened to be free by rote instead of purposely

the watch I'm on repairs itself

and brittle tapshoe branches knotty as retorts
come hither in a rush

belonging is a science turned to art

thou art my central melody

will you in turn defrost me