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literature
were illness ever so apparent
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Literature Text
i cut the
shape
of a wolf below my breast,
i call him sweet
and tearing lover
that cut me in two
a blade of
night
sitting distinctly within my chest:
it is to say
that i am not
my demons.
shape
of a wolf below my breast,
i call him sweet
and tearing lover
that cut me in two
a blade of
night
sitting distinctly within my chest:
it is to say
that i am not
my demons.
© 2014 - 2024 sansstitre
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