Demonstrating the proper form for free weights
on the flimsy scaffold in the winkling of a storm
then the absence
the break in the purpling days and nights
the nights rife with howling
time witnessing the palpability
sauntering through the early morning railroad flat . . .
Perhaps you are still overwhelmed
despite the smothering insistence of imposters
who keep arguing
You think it, you did it . . .
One thing leading to another . . . then another . . . then another
the Rothkovian blur between love and hate rubbed raw . . .
the principal inducted into the minority of givers . . .
How sweet it is? . . .
Your first thoughts? . . . The accoutrements of passion? . . .
All part of the con hung out to dry
within view of the nosebleed section in this miniseries . . .
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| Antonio Palmerini |
