I don’t want peanut…
funky beatsfuel the soul,trance beginswith sound and colorsliced to my willsizzle, heat, bubble, magic — if you can’t handle spice…
Beautiful potCast from iron…
Sometimes,it’s a little scarybeing a baby.I love being sportybut mummy saystoo much of thatwon’t let me becomethe pretty posh girl…
a poem in response to this prompt by Terijo for Chalkboard