startling this morning.
Readying rope and bent up guitar strings salvaged from last month's trip to Ontario.
Steadily decreasing exposure.
Wrappiong tightly around the last cavernous moment when I lifted the case over the border
expunging delight from the oranges I smuggled back from California.
My time keeps decreasing with certainty.
Like when I spun through the night last year
Like when I over exposed my sister's children to the city streets
Before they had grown any protective skin over their suburban autumn leaf isolation
