Residence in the Treehut

What’s happening to the crème filing: Fact that parting stands and sits. So quickly machinations of funerals. Departure. A loss for sight. Underground commuter rail. Eek out. Moment’s chocolate. Translucence bails. Broken into a momentous rhumba. Returns to the juicer. Counts more other fingers. The decision of storms, baguettes and newspapers of morning flights in the new bright. Terminal. It’s the second you, defibrillatorless. A sword swallower with life. And wants to fight.