Holidays between the laptop and the phone cookies and the bone you rebound to come face to face with the loneliness after messages you've sent the sounds of clarinets marinate you with your onliness putting in so much work into becoming unique towering over your own edifice scanning the ground worms in your beak for tiny creatures to comfort to kiss stirring in your flock they’ve already taken off mocking in your thoughts your own decision making process
Poetry and Songwriting from the Bronx