i am pressing my hot hot chest against the cool tiles in the shower
i am leaving that him curled up comforted in my warmed bed and
letting my ears be grated by the electric violin in the metro
maybe thinking about how this
could have should have
been, not like this!
but how else.
supported by a base upon which i let the gin stand,
i am seeing
everyone
in these cracks.
benicia gantner
1 comment:
dear emily,
you inspire me to write.
pj
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