I figured out our blue kimbap
I need to sensor wandering A.) because it’s mostly taken wrongly,
meaning always
.
your old man pic looks like a vagina
highly attractive I know.
smiling preferably. I confront every fear o the planet except let's be
together and I'm called sexist
.
if I was to rewrite the poem I would say
it's obvious I'm sleepy and crayons won’t steel your soul
petty what the hell kind of
poke is that
.
in a subway
. of a calling
card.
.
she is hopscotched bare, her nipple is a breast
or her hitch hiking
"pick me up" in
hundreds
of lines she's propped against the pay phones
.
hookah bar collections we outline inscription
we talk about her brother traded into gender on
a conveyor belt
we pay for him based off of the pictures of
plates
.
we smoke a rum white peach and ask about her
peace. in my dream you whistle
we wonder if she would still stand naked
in a computer error.
.
into bare feet and sponge pavement
a fairy tale that means fish adequate my
placenta and give me pedicures. harmonic
plays with gelato in the middle of the night that only get
us stuck in stairwells on the third floor
where we hear them in a dog park
.
we talk about the kitties and the cafes
we admire her cards again
No comments:
Post a Comment