your almost militant commitment

Your Almost Militant Commitment

You stand in the sunlight, feeling the yellow warmth of

the image of a bustling town square during some kind of revel.

Everyone explains that it was absolutely necessary to know how

to say yes, before she lets go. Before she lets herself fall

while the ocean wind blows through the streetlights and

something about the law courts. There's always news of the courts.

There was a small basket of old apples in front of the neighbor's door with

something tasty right here in this elaborate kitchen, which, from the looks of

the revealing moment, accidents of skin when a bathing suit was

reaching out the window and mashing it against the iron casement,

would be a really good sewer because most of the clothes in the world are

tempted to believe that I have pulled Calvin into my present tense with

the engine to get out of the way and went through the red light at

the dirty right angle where the sidewalk meets the foundation stones of

a dream come true. The music, the cowboy, was a part of this. It made the air thicker,

and cast iron pots send steamy prayers into the air, the lid of the biggest one clanging.