A pain in my third arm
searing.
Always reaching for the
blue broken lightbulb.
In a house of gold a child asks,
Why does winter love me so hard?
Origami journal,
record my private dimension
like a flag over the sparkling tundra.
A pain in my third arm
searing.
Always reaching for the
blue broken lightbulb.
In a house of gold a child asks,
Why does winter love me so hard?
Origami journal,
record my private dimension
like a flag over the sparkling tundra.
Miniature Moon 