He was lonely walking home past parks growing fresh trees like follicules on a scalp, the tree closest to the railings reminded him in breadth of a girl he knew whose thigh dented and fretted like green bark.
Car ki der You look like an eskimo with that upturned nose that clutch of black hair - the smirk of a birth mark the size of a tooth on the mitre of your shoulder, you can tell you sleep in no ordinary bed
She couldn't decide if she loved him so she belted the garden umbrella with his pecan silk tie to see if it would hold and let it rain like misery, she couldn't decide if she loved him so she cisored strips of skin from her feet
