hey its bekah, i forgot to say bye in the land of internet so i'm pirating luke's beautiful writing for a quickquick minute to spit out a poem
i think you would like
the sounds people make
sometimes the sun was
inside me & it was good
the hot blood thing
like Butterflies
in earwax
who took shits wherever they
wanted took the Beast
to the roof which was
fingertips of children
Bladed-pupils Nothing but
the singing mountain between us
A house of monks throat-pore
with paper-kites for lungs. Houses
stuffed in their Holes with
Newspaper. it hurts. Awake. Reckoner
spells made of dust. slow. Hello. to turn
to the eyes of Lions &
become water
slick thud down
the stones to
a house made of candles &
the shadows steal u for a joke.
Nose picker, Love
Medicine
for the women who fly
backwards on broomsticks. you will call yourself back from stone soup
"u know i told him
feel free
& tings
like
that"
1 comment:
beautiful beka
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