A
lean shadow poured onto
The
pavement to recline
Into
I wish I wish.
I
do not, though.
Contemporarybaby.
I
don’t think I have
It
in me to run my
Fingertips
along your jawline
Rained
upon by powdered sugar.
Jesus
Christ.
“What
is your nationality?”
Question
I will never ask.
“Are
you a fraud like me?”
-BENJAMIN SMITH
No comments:
Post a Comment