I’ve left my poems
To vultures at the cusp.
My back has scars from art
Falling during wild sex
Knocked off the wall.
A mess of memory meanders like
My other ghost. Niether refuse to
Enlighten me. I’ve been wondering
Some time. Even though I crave the
Fruit of them all. Even though I crave the
Fruit of them all
Mix Tape Masterpiece – http://wp.me/p230jz-2yX