Torso aka trunk--archaic, check.
Mighty pleasure dome needed, or maybe yurt alert, decreed.
You must change your life. Kathleen said so, and Rilke told her, therefore it must be true.
You must, you must, you must increase your bust.
Half-sunk shattered visage. My visage is perking up. It's my life that's half-sunk. Did Ozymandias have zits? What's up with this AARP-age acne anyway???
Warm, dry sand around my ankles, wanted.
Going to my happy place. Sinking in.
Wind rippling the dunes, tousling their blond hair. Darn dunes, those third grade boys, burping, gross, belching in response.
Burping Dunes. Wouldn't that be a good name for an apartment complex?
*We finally got a piece of the pie!