I get them rolled - a buck a piece from the hobo on the corner. Man’s got taste.
Tag: micropoem
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Artisanal
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pinned
So you don’t love me, I asked. Welcome back to reality, she said.
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Beneath the Bridges Nigh
What is a mere walk between friends? A missed kiss in chlorophyll soaked air. What is it about you?
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around you
Do that thing again. You cry while I hold you, like the little baby I am. Don’t look now, but wow, I’ve never fucked up so completely. Oh wait, yes I have.
Scribbles 'n Bits 