this makes sand. this makes sand. the sand in between my fingers.
the sand in between my hands.
in the inside there is sleeping. there is sleeping, weeping and peeping. in the inside there is weeping.
in the evening there is feeling. in the evening there are feelings, feelings and feelings.
all our feelings on air on the ceilings.
in my hands there are ceilings.
all of your standards have streamers and all of the curtains have bed linens and are smitten in Brooklyn are the bed linens which are smitten. the linens in Brooklyn are smitten.
my hands, my feelings, your bed linens are smitten with my hands and feelings in Brooklyn all of the circles are circling.
all of the circles are circling like circles in the sandy ceilings of feeling.
((i am in Brooklyn.))