plenty of stars here, pulling up in cameraman scrawls
and taxicab refunds, cornered with feather light breath,
why don'tcha have them drown in seawater, stunt doubles for
the ones in the skies, drenched in death and martyred.
as for the ocean loved creatures, take 'em out for milkshakes;
pay with nicotine pennies and neon patterned concubines.
listen: we all shine in ultraviolet, but week-old bruises aren't love bites,
no matter how much gold you plaster over them.
YOU ARE READING
Rough Diamonds
Poetrya collection of thoughts, depicting broken locks and the colours of loss. possibly some of my favourite poems that i've ever written. (p.s this will replace birthright because i'm unhappy with birthright at this point. birthright will still be aroun...
