I’m in love with you, the river conjured, conjoined. And the river followed her. But it was no use. She slipped back on her shoes and ran along the edges of murdered epithets.
If you are taken away by ice you are escorted by heavily beaded condensation which clasps and begs, then ornaments your every breath, like a sphere of loaded mistresses, loaves of tread.
If you are taken you are loaded like a presumptuous street bell, ovens of whereabouts, a vanquished tallow wing of ellipses.
She told his absence to deduce, to describe the problem, in words and symbols upon the banks of clasps and premonitions.
She slipped back on her breath and loaded herself with trodden green shores