This isn’t a pretty resting place. I often forget how to eat.
‘Half in Half out is all the rage.’
but no one looks happy when they’re feeding me that line.
do your thing comes off their cuff.
it ain’t hip.
I’m the ludicrous woman wearing over sexed sin like poisonous poppies in her hair.
Can I break a man?
Or do they get used up. Or do they want to deliciously keep up. keep up.
I require a monogamous lunatic. a man of folklore.