On Sunday morning the air is sweet,
orange zest and poppy seeds and
flour pushed across the
...
[+]
Blood, bile, my shin chimes,
Bone ghost-clangs under grapefruit
Bump. Once, I was blind.
My future: abyss.
Watery-black nonbeing.
Now, after braking
My skates with the bench,
Monkey-barring the metal,
I am finally living.
Bone ghost-clangs under grapefruit
Bump. Once, I was blind.
My future: abyss.
Watery-black nonbeing.
Now, after braking
My skates with the bench,
Monkey-barring the metal,
I am finally living.