2077 36 16
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We sat under the broken umbrella, its flowered fabric hanging limp on one side. The rain fell softly at the edges of our backs. I kissed his hand, the one without fingers (not a casualty of his job, only of birth). My lips pressed what I couldn't say into his…
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5281
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As she slunk to her topless Mercedes
sparkling curbside, wax job hand rubbed
in Hamburg, testosterone heads turned
wishing similar treatment.
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7375
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“You look very glum for being so white,” said the fox.
“Do you believe in Jesus?” asked the unicorn.
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98633
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As she slunk to her topless Mercedes
sparkling curbside, wax job hand rubbed
in Hamburg, testosterone heads turned
wishing similar treatment.
|
1051146
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