mandan (they send)

like the lost car that a river knows like the heat of an ointment in pinpoints of breathing like the unknown western in mountains of tar like a knot in each word for comfort like a horse on a face with four hooves like the knives that a heart squirms into like the feel that the last day pushes, that a fire paints red like the shower that a plain divides in snakes like a frozen torso pining for food like the ammunition that a pair of wings makes dry like a shirt that plants seeds under worn out skin like the clouds of mistakes, pouring through sleep like the walls that crack open like a wake in a spin like the exits of oceans that a salmon knows like the dust that is written with number like a trust full of beacons of light like the negative shade of a fungus like the promise that a lie gives out like the pulse of a trap like the rainbow that cuts off a hand like a psychic intent full of negative calls like salt for the season that covers the fields with jail like the round word that a star pisser pulls like the plains that a crossed out calendar day will mourn like the fate of the wrong side of talking like hills under snow that a letter revolves like the husky reflections of leeches that writhe like a sword in Toledo like the animals growing a vent in a cage like the sequence of nights dropping straw for a cipher like the trade in the fair full of cycles and ends like the cattle that heat all the drains with green grass like the nipples of outdoor intentions like a wing on the door that a glass makes arise like the underground fluid of digitized words like the ice in a cavern like a ride through the green light of dying like the yellowish herd of relational cards like the face that a wallet becomes like the wrong line of radios making a rule like the crust on the last day of hunger like the rodeo riding the real for a cut like the cells in the spread of the fall like an ape for the circle of color like reflections that turn on a wheel like the freezer of sweethearts like a change for the current that makes a return like the pause on the shore full of rattles like the oxygen tent making holes in a lung the face of friendly fire is knotted for a smile deleted for a smile that saves the executioner the face intended jail, by rocking through the holes that fear the clear blue family of dots the face resembles next to nothing in the network full of incremental touches that a string intends to limit by the light the face of arctic evolutions, a hunt that people came to read instead of mapping all the flights of sleep without a sound the face of terrible returns will fade outside the pouring crowd of animal relation in the mineral of wealth the face of providence is making shores for surfers in the foam of magnifying eyes that are the opposite of winter calm the face is never there in each intention that the worst reliance knows to ask for heat the face is after every opening that makes a number count for all of what is good like a robot that falls and makes good for a switch like the breasts of a mop that soaks blood like a magnifying glass for the sun like the picture of radar in space like a misery flood on the phone like electrical laughter that the pointed shake like enemies held in a double embrace like extinctions returning like a handshake of style for the heat like the flower that bottles a fly for a mouth like the still dunes of dust on a beautiful girl like the crack in an oven like a moon that gets brighter with age