Windows stream riversof light; get up and smooth out
the wrinkles of dreams.
On the table afruit’s flayed open but still not
fit to eat and throw
the pips and debrisout of the window to float
on public light-streams.
Pips and peel show more;the litter says more than the
flesh of stuff consumed.
Still somewhat taken up with brevity and east. Also a bit of health scare this week, nothing of any importance as it turns out, annoying to be under house arrest and doesn't make for restful writing either.