42°N 17′ 20.09″ / 71°W 15′ 02.32″
The cloud quarters a vermilion land. Delicious delay, decay obliged at the mineral hill.
Void of timber, confident belief in insufficient proofs. Beheld by a signal at the party
horses join us from water-star
sighed and some clothes
in the way with the black hair turned back up over necks. You speak a promising pursuit: rose.
In lengths: ringing bells.
What to think about what. In the evening, late, this fall, I take a vocabulary in bottles of rain to the lake dug into our beds.
Small animals: great silences rise and scatter.
30°N 32′ 1.77″ / 87°W 15′ 37.19″
Some broken country not worth mentioning without your stiff breeze to bless its narrow channel. Not so salt, some teeth. Opposite these joints, separate colors from skin.
A bending bird fallen into our baggage set about mending our clothes. For the want of night this morning transfers a part near ours. Leaf’s roughness unbranched, amusing to the tongue.
I devote this day to dispersing our collected manners in deep ravines. These secret’s small kind, green in fine order, fed to the barking pouch of spring.
38°N 53′ 46.66″ / 77°W 02′ 40.17″
Remains in the delicate parts. Fire tambourines after all that had been cleared, a way. We determine
in rain against sun, in hands kept strong all night. No sleep invited into.
Moonflowers. Hands painted into mirrors.