119 3 2
|
Reading for a crowd one evening I felt/ the women’s eyes kissing my temples and/ neck, sucking my earlobes and lower lip.
|
111700
|
We dig up conscience-tunnels, pluck the play-flower of present choice for fun, run aground, past this dimly lit, though not to be underestimated, stage, and open door upon empty door, to nothing, for the lights are a pulse flickering in the perceptual per
|
99821
|
That dude takes method-acting to a whole new level. Ever seen a teenager bust a homeless man’s nose to understand a role?
|
9996
|
In the uncommon
solitude
Of
|
