“The moth doesn’t hear him, flies right back to the dads’ flamethrowers and you can’t stop it, can’t stop anything. To the moth all fire is sun.”
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All tagged Two Poems
“The moth doesn’t hear him, flies right back to the dads’ flamethrowers and you can’t stop it, can’t stop anything. To the moth all fire is sun.”
“Hard is the edge of a shadow attached to a blade that drips”
