IX.
i am blowing up a balloon.
my breath is that of a hurricane, and i am carried away.
there is nothing around me except visions of where i will land.
i keep flying.B
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fifteen (XV)
Poetryi prick my finger on a rose in my garden. my blood is not red. i take the wind caressing my face as a silent apology. cover art made by doradorapuff on tumblr. [2015] thank you to everyone who shared with me these short poems as they were published...
IX.
IX.
i am blowing up a balloon.
my breath is that of a hurricane, and i am carried away.
there is nothing around me except visions of where i will land.
i keep flying.B