Sunday, November 1, 2009

Your animation
We weave eaves
droppings found
in ether knits
mixed to max
out on swordplay
all onging off
about bouts of
from form
functioning as us
escapes we at her
  {           }weather control taoer
where wombs protect Om from bombsYour animation
"O mom of us all"
We cried allowed
there was no accounting for what followed
[Comfort bubbles bursting all over
turning us into mom knows what
intercontext: cohearandsees splendidly splitting seeds]
Your animation

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