I score out a good line and print a worse one that will fit. Right night. Wrong noun. The picture is her mid-song, captioned like décor. Ink on the finger. Thin stack. Two mugs. One hidden. Susan buys a copy for the crossword and for a cousin who likes to mock my adjectives. Ink on the finger. Thin stack. I almost got the doors right. I missed that two people looked at each other. Ink on the finger. Thin stack. Parish registers are bad at desire. We are good at spelling the name of a hall wrong. Ink on the finger. Thin stack. I know it will have to do. I know it will have to do. I know it will have to do.
