here not so bright ~

a dog trots and my throat throttles
with legs and gladness for chance of lyrics,
I clap you've jumped out of thistles
on a part of day I can't keep rocks in my hands
but I'd pack to throw away books on dumbbells per se
and searches for inanimate things or myself
yet my husband is gathered where I might not say come over
however feel little ready for baby with skin not needing perfume
by mine of nose more new though not underneath completely
so cucumber on corn on the cob and each such second
poured me proof they soak each other when dollars dehydrate
for no problem while not all wellness's {with gathered neckline}
pulled into minutes of needing to move:
I pull a sliver near red ant ants among toes
slightly lifted on wooden sandals
with a limp needing a better investigation Tweet