there’s a slant to the spine, see? that’s how you know this other creature isn’t me…a fabrication meant to cater to the…
shall I bathe myselfin your skinsalt,use coarse grindsto make blushout of bloom — shall I…
Brain bending color
depth perception on fire
a poem
go lightly for the feather breaks it’s stride
and hides from blustery weather
what change it makes
and so must i
Mountains In Our Pride