Apr 2016
Words
form tight
and wild curls,
like the hair of
my father, or jesus, they
stumble from my lips and leap
into anxious air. I don’t know what
face they’ll wear until they are long gone.
form tight
and wild curls,
like the hair of
my father, or jesus, they
stumble from my lips and leap
into anxious air. I don’t know what
face they’ll wear until they are long gone.
