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Stalwart conifers of Lappland Quiet keepers of the breath of—

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Gem sea, endless eye-blue sky What meridian of lovers’ flesh could—

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This is where we died, exalted tillage Of our futile pain, our anguish and our—

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They call her pretty when she’s smiling They call her nothing when she—

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Willful moon, you steal your vanity from starlight Yet among their humble multitudes you—

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You are a cat because I call you one But you are love, decoration, an irascible—

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Tidy arugula salad, lacquered in oil You are as artful as a fucking—

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OMG, I neeeeed your life!!! All of your photos are so—

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