A catalogue of quiet desires:

The occupied seat across an ocean
of tables. The long
walk through asphalt and marble. The page pointing
to part and pathos (the underlined phrase: “palpate prostate
for pain”). The portrait that betrays (“This
resembles ___”). The absence of lights.
The laughter we refused
to sight: far too slight. The song, looping
like some liquid serpent.

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