guts made of milk fat spilled on roadsides underneath the phosphorescent residue of human thought our memories are moving a thousand miles an hour spun by velocity like gossamer wool along cosmos
when i drink soymilk my spit is iridescent white like the walls of your soul that burn white because i am telling you thank you thank you on the last day of your life
1 comment:
i like the speed of this, the rock-jumping of it.
Post a Comment