Want seashells and you and mandarins and new notebooks and you. Want miso soup and hot chocolate and you and Ugg boots. Want to be touched more than I want to be myself. Want to be wanted. Want summers in South Carolina. Want late autumn rain and you. Want baby hairs and potato salad and Sisters of the Yam and you. Want to eat your eyes like a crow. Want you to be real. Want you and want you and want you—always.
YOU ARE READING
eating the moon
Poetrycatalog of small tortures highest ranking: #2 in poemcollection © z. t. corley, 2023
