If Boy George cosplayed
as Greek youth Adonis, we
would call him Boy Gored

dreamed I was dreaming
of being in a dream,
Pinch me three times please

Every poem I write
Is a baby.
Sometimes they're not as
Pretty as the lil'uns of
Our kind,
But loved none the less.

And they grow
Shorter
Smaller
Inwards; the opposite
Of a
Child's ways.

There are worlds
Within
Space.

My lungs expand
Everything looks tasty
Hello couch