Title:
when i sent the shape of a cat into the room i meant it as leaves, as a swirl of leaves that's why I opened the curtain a last ruby dog on fire in the pan cambie fog two mattresses pushed together drag me under you, skin-deep grey as a niagara water stain what is crow: archeology or a failure of light? type at the street level window, unable to afford the last place on earth
Author:
Bio:
What is the sum of 9 and 7:
It's your turn! Move into the poem. Renovate it. Knock down its walls. Put your spin on it. Make it your own.