The Sum of Small Parts
I am the makeup of freshly dead heritage, This only proves my merit-age. Bikes for carriages; we ride through lonely skyscrapers. Sitting amongst crumpled papers and beer chasers, Getting wasted is...
View ArticleThe Death of Ruby Red
I cut her deep, was a small feat Her pink shown light orange mingled red flesh I peeled her skin exposed her meat Her, beautiful orb-cracked, torn, limp, was dead Her innards spray juice-sluiced,...
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