my feelings, brimming / about to spill onto the floor/ i’ve got no strength, bread or bucket / to sop or mop them anymore/
Category: micro poetry
“for all your fine washables”
the mundane,
it reminds
The Very Last Zeptosecond of 11:59:59: pm on december 31st
the future ending
and re-beginning
in one, arbitrary moment
corazónal ink
you imprinted on my heart
a tattoo i conceal
the limineen | earthling, poet & crone 