I have buffered recurringcars -
Porsches in porcelian,
butteredbysun. Brakes
burning the shoes of sleep.
They come in (((crepe,) in chrome) with chronic road-less speed).
Theinventedones, I now
understand as: Things he too-late
imagined for himself:
Reclaimed in sleepthread
the un-ignited crown! They rise like
newborns, sourdough. ((Morning.))
Never like kings.
Cumulus driven,
choices dr
ape without
hubris. They gape and
open at the nape
and throttle.
They guileless
cl ing.
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