i_might
raze animals make slow people.

that scared gar snarls,
all hidden with their
graceful intent.

if i were gunfire,
i could flip harder
than a holiday.

i'm grateful it seems
like for a second
your dream became mine.

i burned all the bad
poets in this city.

i'll confess when you stop
your danger from talking to me.
250124
what's it to you?
who go
blather
from