or: with too you get cotton candy

our socks flop the hidden evenings

the crescent lunatic cleaves our silhouette from absent yesterdays


our mischief under the stove

of wondered nonsense

is a mirror we cannot see

but we run in the dark; free


a floss of everything beyond our tale and nose

our blinds are our binds


in cardboard times


she is marbles i am magpie

spun apart we are all ways together


like cotton candy

two by too

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