by fennadmin | Apr 2, 2018 | Artists, Elena Bianco, Poets
It was X’s birthday And I was hurting. Dear morning spit spitter I see you, and your blue eyes A freezing burn Scalding of the skin. Spit spit spitter Better a slap or a kick Than the spit That flew out of your face and down My neck Hot spit like spice Crashing in...
