a house beat with a crystal stair,

or what to do about the wandering eyes.

the cliche of a literal construction worker. I'm bored of being curious let me be attractive. come upstairs & see me some time. Mae West made some points. I ain't tryna give it all up but attention makes me the silliest putty. I make myself laugh first. color desperation in pink because my favorite color is amethyst. color me raw. cuddle geode. suckle pre-formed tit. when you look upon this monument, pray.

I imagine all gazing as worship so I can be surveilled & demand a fee. the outside is so hot. & I already wrote enough this season about being visible. there is little correlation between family & familiar outside of the etymological root assuming closeness. I live close. Enough. I want a different dimension. contact doesn't inherently imply entanglement. touch doesn't always require reaching some interior.

I'm getting ahead of myself. the viewership is a closed circuit. across the street. a cadre of construction workers inappropriate high visibility attire. been seen. so visible. from here I can't tell which is the cutest. they are all wearing sunglasses.

I am more familiar with vices than outlets. most writers see their work as some fleshy living in the world. I wish I could engage my writing like that. writing isn't an outlet so much as if don't, I'll forget I'm alive & possible. but y'all don't need much so I write for myself first. it is is an outlet that pours right back into me. Music is sort of an outlet but whenever I work too hard I get mad folks don't notice.

I picture all my favorite rooms empty. Today I considered waking up & deciding this was all a dream & I was supposed to get back to my town now.

this is what it sounds like when doves vogue. this is how I talk about competition with evasion. My new outlet is competition because I'm not normally inclined & a challenge is needed. I can gamble attention. I'll be seen regardless. Maybe he'll see me in Dreamcast.