#11
All you say you want, all the words in the curse jar:
grip and grit and gristle.
The grand totem I had told you about
holds you in totality.
This language is always localized,
locating binge.
Nakedness of the bare word:
Nudity on a flayed bridge.
Until I whisper you this song:
Tu Veux Ou Tu Veux Pas...
Said to no one
because it must it must be sung.
I think that in loving you
this song is this
location hinged on singing
or the singing as signage for itself.
