06.30.2020 caught a 'darling' at da quill the blips misalign unlovingly, i chew my thumb 06.29.2020 dusty mail beckon for replies i would love, very much absolutely love, to, in the ripe months of fall (maybe bordering on winter), slide my palm against the cool stone of the bench seat, to remove the sparse, dead flickerings, in order to provide you with a place where you might be able to, for a moment, situate yourself crossing out the tiny handwriting in one's assignment book