ask plain
words reach
out and burn
the day is fiber
chore not whatıs
bargained for a
face in dream old
shoreline sharp
rocks driving in rain
fraction of fraction
of an inch chance
facial lines in
artificial light
flower variations
blue breath drafts
unless cracks in
woodıre patched
only six files
for twenty six miles
while other side of
town they crowd
rafters for wool
gathering and song