Let There Be Seasons So

The Fish Are Naked. The Fish Are Always Awake. They Are The Color Of Old Spoons And Caramels.

The Town Is Silent. The Night Boils With Eleven Stars. Oh Starry Starry Night! This Is How I Want To Die.

Blue Eyes Wash Off Sometimes.

I Am A Collection Of Dismantled Almosts.

The Ground Has On Its Clothes. The Trees Poke Out Of Sheets And Each Branch Wears The Sock Of God.