today we swallowed the sun. beamed through the meings and we sat picnicking inside of our purposeless afternoon feet. we feeted and footed and tooted our horns. we slapped raspberry kisses on the tops of our truncated Tuesdays and we sang the songs of our nows into the everlasting gobstobber splinter of spring. today a teacher looked me square in the eyes and told me i had eyes that were worth meeting hers. today a group of no name noteworthy newspaper people sat in the grass and stared at the clouds until they began to move, or we began to move as they sat still staring at us or we shaped the cirrus circus of circumfrence of today, which had a date, it had a name, it had a time- it had a saying named April 9 two thousand and twelves, but that wasn’t the place and that wasn’t what the wind felt like and that wasn’t what the trees tasted and that wasn’t what was wasted between what i wanted and what i waded through. that wasn’t the time of day when all day lasted for just one block of eternity blocked out by the clouds. (the clouds are still moving, mind you, they’re just far past us now, in the ocean, i’m sure.)
the day dreamed me in, dropped me out, coddled my corners and gave birth to my bones.


lately i’ve been dragging my demons out of the clsoet, painting each one the color of starwberry surrender and then stuffing them back into my backpack, packing them up for lunch for litterbugs for luncheons made out of lunges. 


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