Lines

Arrangement of leaves

The temporary segment

Branch formal, complicit

A wear for this turn

Blind upon our grace

Leaves electron pulse

Flew upon thy shore

I'll never write again

After this dragging

Skill of a loud ghost

Among the ceiling clouds

At my consent

After an alphabet real

You will simulcast

I feel I won't last

The afternoon

A blue or black pen

The house built itself

In chance for graves

A gray room sound hall

Before the session

Disinter block