Racks and rails are anti-dysmorphic,
anticipating good times.
From a flip flap of spinning self,
I can land, quite beautifully,
but often don't.
Minimal space exists from a to b,
yet the just-washed speaks.
Low profile, standard days,
from machine to machine,
sticking to the plan.
I'll tell you nothing but everything,
I'm constantly adorned
in the art of the abstract.
"Who is she?"
I imagine both...
Continue reading...