(no subject)
A little while ago, there was moonlight between my teeth, as slippery and sweet as raspberry seeds, sliding like beads on an abacus as you push them back and forth with your tapered tongue. I spat moon rock at my feet and felt moonlight between my toes, instead.
The dipping streetlight reflections looked like finger-paint. I would have sworn the river was snakeskin dry, but I saw the beaver's tail vanish last.
Absolutely everything makes me quizzical.
The dipping streetlight reflections looked like finger-paint. I would have sworn the river was snakeskin dry, but I saw the beaver's tail vanish last.
Absolutely everything makes me quizzical.