postcards from a space before

Though I signed the card "xoxo" that is not the end.

Though night falls over the city that is not the end.

Though the holiday is over that is not the end.

We are not at end.

We are only beginning.

All my love.

And months pass, in this love. I don't imagine every little evil now. I could read newspapers. I make a mess on the spaces. Some things fill my head—teeth, bones, sparks.

1. I can't see you because you are from a country that is soaring away, you gently with all your soils.

2. do you believe, and still pretend, the mid-conversation, the blood and limbs of it.

3. too bright, but it does not all depend on this coming to life here.

4. I leave for some raking.

5. the structure is long gone.

6. read a book.

7. lucky.

I saw a dog. I saw a lion. I saw a sun. I saw a place.

I have a headache and lunch money.

but the night clubs you.

you would call this madness, called kindness.

a serpent you don't seek.