Intentionally

In a language spent internationally, silence kept its distance while you adjusted the antenna bringing in a broader range of subspace lies. My birthday cake read like a wish--when read it made the cake even sweater but the candles never burned themselves quite out.

Standing in the rain was really the only way to douse the auto-da-fé. Your oven leavened while heavens rained stone giants - they bludgeoned me on the head that grew two feet tall, walk/talk and proud mighty incandesence where only a ring of dust outlined steps leading back to what you said.

Semper fi do or do or this is done at four hundred some odd degrees of seperation interjecting distance--wedges apart the organs--but its still in the body strolling circles in jail. And a city can be seen in a woman's blouse so I look harder and write to Matvei asking for a zipper code as you finish and walk outside.