apartment lot christmas eve emptying over easy with an eye toward sad slanting lonely only the rest left behind to mind the lines to stay in the right order - sorting the paint drying in the cold sun imagining itself turning to snow - nothing is the movie - even as the cards harden into expectation and names are stamped damply in DIwhY cookie cutters the butter's still real in the cookies and the rookie's making mistakes we will all take for granted: one day one way to look at it one way to cook fat out of it - these are the battles worth fighting or aren't they - stopping to get involved and no wonder we won't open until everyone means more-scenes young and means to weigh in on as lids crawl closed and the dark comes up
all wrapped up and closing eyes/ in a jam with sense and spiced peaches/ reach out and check the return
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