post-sacellum sin oozing from green eyes
Author: josette
12.30.23 song of the day
i had nestled myself under a large oak tree away from the crowds
the trouble with food
and what a beautiful existence we’ll be,
size zero, a featherweight,
i thought to myself
tangled bows
maybe bows will heal the foursquare scrapes
etched into my conscious and they’ll offer me an
untainted religion