Exquisite Corpse #3

As if the wigwams had converted themselves to spoons
descending into the whirlpool.
A firework explodes in my head every time I hear you talk.
The shadows reached for her like demons from a nightmare.
Let’s go somewhere and judge people.
Little is known about these structures.
Lips lick long, lazy linguine lines
There are fears here
"For shame," I thought as my eyes fluttered closed. "For shame."

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