at the center of the flower which way do you go?
open up my channels I’m waiting for the show
J’aime the little wooden matchsticks (allumettes!) with rose-colored combustive tips, which I light the gas stove with to make café au lait in the morning
We have faith in the poison
You need to watch your step – among all the ghosts and memories
may you crack before I do.
The Devil generalizes, angels are specific.
You’re looking for function, but form leads the way.