Direct Drafts 6

First draft about dramatic little candle flames

The sound of your smile clicks in the dark the candles in the room always

threatening leaping. All my surfaces have their face on after much bizarre scrubbing

And airing out. I’m practicing my human lessons, my person stuff with

Breaks to cry. You have to tell me where my body ends how else can I

Know? I walk a little version of a larger man into my hear…