My legs sprout new bruises every day and I’m never sure where they come from or from whom or whether they send their regards
By Daisy Lennon7 years ago in Poets
how do you search for the moon among night-stained trees? Sirius, Orion, Ursa Major, the minor key in circles, the moon by smaller circles
O granola steeped in milk and honey O most perfect apricot wrinkled thumbprint of the sun float miraculous in my 2% and make my stomach