|The Gun Show
I’ve discovered the acceleration to turn him into magical realism, erase staircases; how to bend light with my mind. Soon, I’ll drive his Honda while lazing on the futon.
Victoria bakes cornbread; helps choose flowers to allure honeybees — girl, there’s something sexy about your husband and a juicy leg of lamb. Nothing better than hearing a Brit say “fuck.”
Chop me the firewood! Long ago I ran out of ears; he’s telling me apostrophes keep coming off as naked waffles.
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