

Selecting a ReligionFirst, I would have it be emaciated, and crawling eagerly up to my feet at the most middle of my porch, its paws rubbed raw at the back by anxiety. It should be eyeing my bare hands, small ones, dark from not having sense enough to glove them.Selecting a Religion
It will let out its tongue, and there on my front steps, it will cry about the sparse garden Ive kept, then nuzzle my palm beside me. It will scratch at itself, and watching some fur come out, I will think to feed it my husbands breakfast. And I will.


ClassicI am not the logic moon, sucking the tides in only to let them go again and again.Classic
I am no moon of logic, whose cavities develop over aeons slowly, precisely.
I am not
the logic moon I
know from the diligent way you accuse me of halfness.
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aaaaaaaaaaah SHIT!!!.. my blog [link]
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