your body is a garden
full of weeds and pleasant things
im tilling your soul
like the edge of your tongue
hope is a word best settled last
in a forest, like your mind
deep corrosion in your bones
settle into me
like the birds above you are free
alive only when you need
keep your eyes locked on the marsh
sweet sting of your beauty
ESTÁS LEYENDO
if not human
Poesíathe anthology of emotion, the passing of life, the epilogue of pure, unfiltered regret this is "if not human" poems, prose and stories from the dark
