listen-out, i’m dust
someday there is going to be a big yard and i will beat you to it, bathe beneath a tree or a breathing body of light but
i made myself bleed so i could cry beside you
our met kiss was wet-lips but no touch; we took a break to stare at each other in the rib-cage, i was trapped in.
the shooting star
take me to the tulip fields and make me drink that sweet tea you love
i make a likeable parrot
transformed into practicality, practically a pirate, notorious