I touch the bricks like they’ve got answers to find them softer than they look. up close they’re land stacked vertical
now your red and white façade leaves me mouthing “it’s beautiful/ nah, it’s stuffy” feel the symmetry leased by gentle things such as; air; settled, by grateful patients
since tenure’s paved with life, and metaphors. I try not to build false dreams.
retinas stroke bricks and claw your healing herbs let it stop I hear the lions roar loyalty two Empires on high
then I might be an inside-out-collector free of shame and full of debts and sight our cabinet of rights
“they’re impressive”/they’re possessive! as bricks or fart, too, on my capital since we too bought a façade & mostly I sleep deep but hell one wall’s got mould already “it’s so historic/ tear it down”
our eyes finally depart these streets would we dare seek a shelf in your cabinet