The vows went off. They really burned it down—those old folks. They really moved at the fan’s-edge shadow of their feet to god knows what they felt that rhythm was. The girl herself was quiet, sweet. The bones sagged like blown wheels in a broth of tripe and bullion and the foils round the almonds came undone. One by one
repair the window prone to tipping some pieces ready to go like Mary in a blue glass dress falling easily after old lead gets wound into a sleeping coil while other panes need to be forced without breaking this is patience that ends in mud pane garden crucifix crack & Q-tip what was broken back up she goes to perch each day with the unholiest bursting bosom of light
