Ripe Mulberry

I rest on a futon with a posture that is far too scrunched up for one to ever look comfortable from a plain person’s perspective, meanwhile the tears of God pitter and patter their way down from the clouds to land against my paned window sill. “Rainy days on a summer day drain my thoughts away.”

It is the middle of June, and I haven’t been outside for nearly a week and a half, I believe. The only human being that I have been in…

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Ralph James (POLOETRY)

Written by

attempts at poetry. + my shameless instagram tag: @ralphpolojames

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