164/365

[Image: Marie Burke]

I'd rather study the context

of your face. Eat strawberries
in fields made of spit. Wrap my
collection of necklaces around words
made of the currency you swallow. Sweat

other wisdom. Instinct save extinction.
Where would you
like to? When would you be mouthed
and forgotten? This is all
in order to share a meal between point A and
point B.

Print out the directions and fold them
along seamlelessly, pocketside.
Windshield fate and fire
and fate.