Wednesday, November 30, 2011

haibun || Sheila E. Murphy

Shield feathered clinches the protection premised. On the count of three,
versus on the contrary, remains forethought tempered by taupe threads.
Wear one, split one. Watch the ring divulge infinity. One petal left upon
a carpet, overtime. The only long effects repair a version of trace minerals
all about percussion tracks a penchant for recovered bones. Is this your
structure? Witnesses place stretchmarks at the scene. The woman in
your parlor may romanticize the client base. Memento matrix, said
the hang glide pilot patronizing briar patch and lamp. Some elements
conforming to an off-the-grid departure from the principle of
reminiscence. True form clashes with predisposition. Waterfall, dry land,
wide lane, trap door. Aroma wafts into the safety. A quiet lifetime, as if
people had in common anything. Refusal to endure the human. Anything
alive. A boost in memory, morale, an intuition worth an answer wrong
on every scale.

Blue eyes, forensic gestures, the perfume of creosote along the roadway

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