ATTEMPTS WITHOUT WORTH
Everyone here remembers my horse.
Is facing the right horse even wrong?
Can’t the eel walk 5 Steps?
With snaps and stabs it flew.
The guy gradually climbs the horse and sees his purse rise off his seat.
He’s so up himself, his reflection vomits confidence.
You cross and he forgets to stir where he’s short.
I can cover his waist elegantly with short leaves.
I join his spread legs.
The venom remembers him.
It knows the place.
Am I noticing softer times?
I must pull out and dismount his cave.
His left leg lifts his shirt.
The hands stroke way stronger.
A small hand grabs a little foot and finds wipes.
Does goodbye wipe anything off?
I prefer wipes to split jumps.
Jazz looks impressive closer.
Something sways behind my back.
While the world’s going on, he and I trip on something and surface from the waves.
Where we point from here, the mysterious reflection falls.
Nostalgia looks smaller now.