garbage juice
Jesse Black
seangadoury
norm
Rob Nagy
darren
shitisbadnews
Mathew Reynolds
Tom Nagy
frenchypink
kaleidoscopeflux
Emma Smith
Travis C
senecaantony
Cosmetic Plague
Her soft satin belly, like a tiny ocean, sways With each breath comes a mighty tiny rumble Inside her rugged, comfortable, mobile cage, She sleeps Like just a solid chunk of temporary flesh This improbable, natural machine, after all, Seems to “feel” Maybe “I” should “care”
Filed under: fixed hearts, verse | 1 Comment »
