It's running through
my whole body. Every
little strand of sinew
and every piece of
cartilage can feel it.
What's wrapping
my body is cold,
dry and famished,
craving wrapping.
Cigarette ash linens,
it's sticky at the bottom
of a cup on the ground.
Bats in barren caves yet
warmer than in my grotto.
Jul 27, 2025
Jul 27, 2025 at 7:32 PM UTC
It's running through
my whole body. Every
little strand of sinew
and every piece of
cartilage can feel it.
What's wrapping
my body is cold,
dry and famished,
craving wrapping.
Cigarette ash linens,
it's sticky at the bottom
of a cup on the ground.
Bats in barren caves yet
warmer than in my grotto.
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