Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Mar 19
what’s it like, god asks.

god, who will never know blood. who will never know meat. who will never wake, one day, teething. animalic. mawed

i don’t know, i say.

i’m not honest. chimeric, my body coils around a clutch of eggs. i will test their shells, one by one, with the tip of my most solemn tooth

before i remember what i am.
Mote
Written by
Mote  31/F/Michigan
(31/F/Michigan)   
29
   kfaye
Please log in to view and add comments on poems