This was originally a cut-up poem of sorts, written in response to my...well, he does hate labels so.

His text follows:

"Beauty appeared in very strange places today:
-The space left by a branch that had broken off a tree in a thunderstorm.
-My father standing in his bathrobe, squinting to remember out the name of a 70s drama.
-A long stretch of wet sidewalk.

I have no paper money. This is how I can tell that summer has begun. I could live for the next month on just the loose change I have amassed on my floor.

Well, it's almost 5 am, so time to go to bed. Send me more of your words, I like them."

Send me.
Send me beauty.
I could live a long stretch on more of your words.
I could live for
Send me more.

Send me.
The time left
It's almost 5 am, so time to go to bed for the next month.
The space left. The time left.
I remember almost
how I could live for the next month
On just
Send me more.

Send me
I like
Your words
Broken off a tree in a thunderstorm
I could live on just your name
Send me
Send me more.

more of your words
I could live for

a long stretch
send me beauty
for the space left

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