and all the men my heart has fluttered about,on the space you take up when you’re here,and its imposition when you’re not. for papa who i pray knew nothing thenof the inside of his body, and all its thriving rot, for you who shook the wanderlust into my(your) long leg bones…for you who branded me… Continue reading on papa
Tag: garbage poets
On sharing
I guard my loneliness fiercely, It is the only thing that is only mine.