Tuesday

Duty officer


Jill' got /has got teeth in her sun   ~ . This way she bargains up the round fetter  ~  of working class solitude...
Oona's other bodies are hidden formed  by the fierce feminine property of her design___ the star benighted daze and the night has lings soughing in then out along the haled space of her capture


                     Only partially perfumed she's heard the track of owls in the wood


 across the threshold of  waist and fingers sheafed  in cork| Jill'd hug and tickle her duty officer it didn't matter if her shoes were dirty




Over the beach   along the way       coming up hill  and  then along the crevasse  and  the calanca veering down  she's measured foot cracking hours    hanging             from  limestone, but she's mad           knows nothing along  beside and for it.
 If's she's jumped the rent that makes her one armed paper hanger. Nothing gets past her gaze_ her tight outfit guarantees _ her gauntness's outstanding.
   The breakers roar       thunder cracks          a heron stands         
 perpetual stillness over this river t he body ~ . Lightening crashes..... heaving its massive

or really the thunder ~


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