passing a pair of headphoned joggers twink winks and holds his breath sprinklers hissing papers landing darkness grudgingly giving way sleepless boozy i am the black cat to the black cat twink hoists an orange traffic cone to his lips there is something i am supposed to shout twink shouts and i don’t think this is it


◄ everything

turn ►


No comments posted yet.

If you wish to post a comment you must login.

This site uses cookies. By continuing to browse, you are agreeing to our use of cookies.

Find out more Hide this message