my romantic plea (to a girl who’s gone far away)
we danced the circulette movements through the intestines of the tall ice keep. toward little corners, and stone had given way toward warmer woon, of teachers’ offices, nooks and that. i imagined deep delight. it was all i could do to keep to myself.
remember someone had left three quarters on a cheap gargoyle. you said you needed laundry money. remember i stopped you. i grabbed your arm.
but i was so much wiser then. i thought there were rules. a moment of prudence, which an age of daring could never retract. and now there is only the sound of water.
oy, it’s foaming with peanuts, being shelled and spat, multidirectional for little elephants, who’ve gathered round. in a circle.
stomping and beating we know we know.
so how does a guy? how do i? get you back. a little flipyo back.
just tell me how long. i clear the bed.