postfeminist/immanence.

i feel an impetus rising in these
walls: as it were a plague on our
house but we've long since earned
immunity, all the infinities, and
their eternities, wolved with the

woebegone ugliness of intelligent
fire.. i don't despise myself but
i'm learning to grow into a shell
built for me by an innocent & who
dwelt in hell-- how i long to ad-

vocate for contralto advice & the
grasping impenetrability that you
suspect would divine us into per-
haps another world like annie for
a while, no not the one you know;

the tenth track on the disc isn't
always the best, but it makes you
most immaculate: laser-guided be-
yond impeccability through to the
crowflight fidgeting, that summum

bonum that feels like progressive
house in the early evening, oh my
god i am full of contraindication
and need a builder to construct a
purpose for my life, any ideas? i

surrender my infants' breath to a
chromatic angel whose wrists, yet
intact are the terminal for tears
that begin in the heart and you'd
not expect such but help survive.