May 17, 2016
H-K-P
orchids on a curling stalk that sort of pain - it blossoms where does it hurt and you can point: here
a 2 out of 10 tearing a nibble? I hold your hand examining your nails your bitten-out cuticles a half-moon C in paler keratin up, as if I the man would kiss it
you wish I would, or something like it your eyes say it, and the exhale weary. a helpless don’t
and so I don’t. I remember when I was like that with her, liking her, or something like it I wish she would still but it’s just a game to me anymore
