a sort of grey

Sleep with paintings to smell the intent of imagery. Photographs cannot help but flash against the back sores of homelessness or helplessness and the gap left from her walkaway. Throw up your tired and filthy, said grey. Gather all the dirt left from others and sculpt a new front door with window and embroidered welcome mat. Grey fingers squeeze it open. Grey thighs, like three-day old newspaper, blurry and smudged. Grey kiss grows grey tongue into grey receptacle for cavities and chewing. Grey history cannot be understood without insurance-required therapies and pharmaceutically-produced medicines. Testify a protest to see body’s grey response. Grey lonely lasts until just past five a.m. when finally her knots fall asleep and she wakes up a sort of breaths.

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