Greet me in a dead tongue when I rise from my sunken bed—Godana dag!
(Gothic). Mama’s here, my necromantic swamp, good evening all afternoon.

Download complete. Getaway App: charger, cash, nuts, poems, gum, curlers, slip, good
panties in case, bad panties in case, glitter, pills, morning, night, afternoon.

Carolinas spat us out. Then Queens. Quit the Catalinas when our night-
bloom soup burned at a Y2K party that last slurpable afternoon.

My aliases are Ariadne, Ariana, Audrey. I play
Mistress of Labyrinths. I play femmes who jump trains in Love in the Afternoon.

Where’d we see that Joan Crawford flick? Bette Davis. I never wear—was it
violets or lilacs?—magnolias big as baby heads in the afternoon.

Sue me. The flipped neighborhood keeps me around and out of it—another
wan revenant in house-shoes draping a groaning porch swing all afternoon.

Words over Emily’s case (320). I say voices. You say German.
Friend, don’t leave, we’ll praise small, impartial certain, small light/Winter Afternoons—

Word of Marthe. Of no more from Marthe. Priority: Normal. Eighty-
one kilobytes. Saved. Received: 10 April, 54 minutes after noon. 

East Asian Religions complete. Click to test your Abrahamic knowledge:
[click] 1. Mincha, Nones, Asr, and __________ are prayers offered every afternoon.

Approaching your destination. De-board as road bleeds into roads left. Breath-
clouds. Bye, bus. Hi, wild ducks, distant pond, low-lying lung of late afternoon.

Siri, what’s it like? Looks nice today, Carolyn. Up to 75.
No, what about me? Figuratively, too, welcome to your afternoon.