southern insomnia machine
This is how I look
creating
a lonelier
mirror.
The mirror will destroy me before its making destroys me.
We do
I think
our own
stunts
in the past
of god.
I wanted to touch you in a perfect house.
There were three staples
in the stomach
of the holy spirit.
A carpenter bee
was its own ghost.
kingsoftrain 
Leave a comment