Updated: Jan 26, 2019

six birds fly the form of freckles

near your mouth

i knew that you were

the face of god

that the sky

was there for reading

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god told me to get a haircut i was looking for my haiku about winter i dream i am already at work between the cars of the train a single flake of snow i have to write some of this shit down


i want to taste the female flavoring in your skin in your mouth to begin writing place the tip of the pencil at the top left corner of the page the last time i got my hair cut my mother was alive


it’s a different city with you gone everywhere is coded with the lack of you i saw more i watched for did not participate in any tableau of death and now i feel it i panic now i dread though i still a