15-9-19
I told her you were a wind storm that feels like a skin. I said my bones are writing poems. I said I can’t taste my food because my mouth left to find you.
She said, “So, what’s the problem?”
258/365
Sarah Papple
I told her you were a wind storm that feels like a skin. I said my bones are writing poems. I said I can’t taste my food because my mouth left to find you.
She said, “So, what’s the problem?”
258/365