Poetryaverse
. more than ever i need an enema or an island of my own the general public can no longer determine squirm from quake…
Poetry.salvation
. there are things made bright bled folded autumn arrives and the yellow eyes close sunflowers jiggle then lean upturned dirt chokes-up children's fingers…
Poetryslave songs—2020
lawd we march lawd we chant lawd we pray lawd i sing the body to a hemorrhage i sing "the fires are not my…
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