Perfect chances and the turmoil dances – gathers its insinuation and chances again
At all of this singular over-entitlement
Overbearing to be beneficially beautiful and still beautifully stereotypical, she walks with a beat and a slant and a finger-licking skip in her converse-wearing feet, causes a hundred sudden swollen moments to tie themselves dutifully back together by the breathtaking nature of the conquer and divide
Sunrise, starry skies – Tenderloin gunshot eyes and the sound of her breath escapes the delirium of his ventriloquist’s lips
Far-reaching, over-reacting San Franciscan creature-creator – knows a way, only one and many of an other
Smiles and smirks and says whatever they wish for her to hear – it right about now, immediately this minute, that she’s been flirting with the danger of a fifty-foot dive beneath the audible undercurrent
And to come back to belonging harder than even that is to simply comply and sincerely begin to feel
Something sincere, something so very dearly reimbursed and so thankfully soon as it appears to be as though we’ve moved on up and away from her
Our hearts still digging
Resurfacing had to have been her number one thing all along and at the point of upside-down view had to have been all of it hers all awhile we watched her sirloin tongue touch the edges of the tenderising moonshine
Starry eyes all blue skies over her pulpit universe she’s moving on up
Just not with us without us
It is hard to catch the length of her breadth whenever your mind has been trying to multiply all of her math