there's a bull somewhere inside of me
a taurus bumbling around
I'm sitting on the rock by the cabin
crept up the mossfilled footholds
tips of moccasins mashing the wet needles
slip off tread slide down.
we used to climb up here & we'd eat huckleberries
cutest thing we ever did
we did a good job
fell asleep in rain windows layers in
cotton silk wool cotton wool
distrustful black hoodie,
it's chilling out and
we live on the mosquito plains
but I'm a rockform
tearing up tearing down the mountain
like all the other pretended birthdays ever
a weather inappropriate watermelon beer in a colder that reads,
I'm still hot but now the hot comes in flashes
what is virtue
what are justices
I wish I had a dictionary or a diary
I wish I was another call
I found the face.
it's chilling out
on the mosquito plains
fashion models taking some shots here
denim + bronze
when I'm a typographer in the future
I will design my own font
that only gets used
for my boutique's logo
but it will be patented
and it will make me billionz
I'm an earth mother
not a Typist
especially since being always
on the lichens, in the moss
swatting mosquitos
pretending we were plains
but I wasn't born today, or yesterday
there was just a broken heart drawn on my mother's baby-calendar
followed by 5 days of things like,
this baby won't get out of me
I'm tired
I'm done
this isn't working
I can't do this anymore
