we wake up every morning and train to jump into the sun

Mr. Lunch liked to chase birds. In fact, he was a professional.	endless liquid crystal prayerwheels spun and shining all day long in the dead city	That Thursday the Universe was curved in the morning and was flat again by afternoon	You grabbed my hand, and we fell into it. Like a daydream. Or a fever.
All I could remember in the morning is that maybe there were wishing hands involved	Upjump the Devil	his attempt to flatter me and his failure to do just that	Dreams become stronger when desire sits at the edge of your bed
It feels like fingernails across the moon. Or do you rub your wings together?	The shadow is going away. You can breathe again. The past is closed.

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