what world we've wound round--the wonder coming out in pieces--stammering beyond tender--a compass--rotating inside--ever trying to escape the skin--his was hers--bloodless and brooding--borrowed on a level--though a slack sack of goodness--his was hers--to give and give again--left to lean their long-tired--twenty-four-hour--flip flop gaming--she ran--stammering--a kind of slam-cram jamming--what took over was inside--a compass--ever trying to escape the skin--

usually a bird's eye view--some constancy and maybe fame--
write it out--it's yours and that's mine--possibly another flip
or maybe you could roll down this hill and I'll take your photograph--
that's good, work it out

the light is better over here--could you...
maybe walk over here--wait--stop--

scratch that--you're better in the dark--
I'll laugh while you make-out in the dim light over there--
yeah--possibly another flip--
that's good, work it out

pushed past the first findings--
following now how holding never solves it--

slow character now, let go--
echo an echo--to follow fast