i think i'll be warmer
in a colder
city.
the first night i pulled
my leg, but now, i'm,
exhausting her.
12:20 and i'm in an empty
parking lot, just waiting
for a cop to ask;
if he does,
i'm peddling poetry.
YOU ARE READING
Melancholia
Puisipoetry takes us to so many places, and we take poetry to so many places. here are poems about places, and sometimes the people found in them.
