Her Hair Is Red

I would not have seen the tiny indiscreet comet. I am weak. But what I think is I saw stars, stairs, stars. I have been permitted to stick these last together.

There is anything I should see.

I should stand. I comb.

Laws of nature can neglect a human. Herb helped me and my mother helped me.

I did not know she liked those grails at the house. Saw her with the sack I gave her. I should ask for a sack back for more repose of my soul.

In jam jars, she puts sundrops around and she buys small things such as toothpaste.

What I think of she provides. In fact, sure she does.

“How is Thursday,” she said, “or anything else?”

There is all of this to say.

They were proud of me. There is all of that to say at the time. I was made into a more womanish girl. I tell myself not to run away, whatever that means. Thick folds of my skin prevent me, what­ever that means. Rather, it is from the blather, rather, I am made.

I parade around plenty, which means I do have the globular breasts. Yet, I am watched.