chain in teeth
black tank top
hands shackled around your forearms
and they tremble.
i am on my knees now
on my knees
on my knees
YOU ARE READING
weeds.
Poetrysometimes you need to return to the soil to feel the triumph of what once grew.
i like to rub my face against your chest
chain in teeth
black tank top
hands shackled around your forearms
and they tremble.
i am on my knees now
on my knees
on my knees
