to the cold sores that reappear weeks after my lips have (h/s)ealed.
tonight i come home hoping only to kick through the kelp of my dirty laundry in the dark that sucks the moon of its shine. i come home without the dustcloud haze and the circled, starred, and underlined margin notes of lists. tonight i come home and mayday straight through the
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i was just attacked by thirty or so cd's, two speakers and a subwoofer, a clock, three oversize books, a photo frame 8x10, a metal lunchbox with hello kitty stickers, a teacup, two black shelves, and steel shelving equipment
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