There.
It curls itself
around like dry milk.
****** breathes
the desert unto
Pastoral gold; a
swollen ******
No tears for lush
stalks of women,
even as they dance
under sterile
suns.
Aug 14, 2012
Aug 14, 2012 at 12:58 AM UTC
There.
It curls itself
around like dry milk.
****** breathes
the desert unto
Pastoral gold; a
swollen ******
No tears for lush
stalks of women,
even as they dance
under sterile
suns.
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