And if I saw in a massive street your richness

1.

Would it be a dream or something else if I saw in the pock-marked avenue your sweating eyes?
If I imitated your hand would I be left with more you or me?

2.

If I'm being honest I have a desire a million times a day to be anything to you. I repeat these riotous movements toward the end. I asked ChatGPT to translate the notes on the Venmo transactions between you and your Swedish tutor. 

3.

"To see the world aright," I hope. Thoughts sprawl at the top of me; trickle down through empty elbows and wholesome knees to two heel bones beneath the bottom of my head which is the top of a very long spine. Sprawling spine that is the entire world. When I see it I just wish you could feel it too. I address you out of habit. The intimacy of that. 

4.

Did I see your smooth head in the old man's flute playing?
Did I let the images accumulate for long enough?
Did I get involved with superlatives early on?
Did I write even one original line?
Did my disgust with myself lead you to a new allergy?
Did your caricature percolate at the wrong temperature?
Did I run for the wrong stop?
Did you make your painting?
Did our translation succeed?