The Plagues
of water turning to blood the pink tornados in the porcelain,reminds me of time. hourglasssand pouring out of me. the blush,dusty rose. perpetual empty, the slowpendulum swing of fear when the waterstays clear to fear when it doesn’t. of frogs of squelch of wet smack of deep gut throatof expand retract release of slipslide on mother’skitchen tile of pink tongue… Read more →