[response to: Trimming Hairs Revisited]
Sound is Sound.
A finger once filling the next to the blender.
A finger once jammed in a door. The pinky was in pain.
The happiest thing for a person to have is twister on a sour day. (with a mint julep!)
Walk around – a radical nude walking a naked cat.
As in the communal shower, that was only occupied by one.
Veneer of washed plates peered in by a doe on a scorcher.
Same smile if neighbors had trust, and returned balls.
Community that’s a neighbor. [They had never met. She was also a neighbor. She lived in a small town outside of Johanneberg.]
Trim in the sense that life always seemed shorter.
That stealth was watching, void in the evening.
While she practiced stealth, whoosh.