COYOTE BLOOD
poetry, art, mistakes, music, love, visions and everything...
We Are Good On Couches
piano me.
haunt this place.
kid me.
don't stab yourself with a pencil.
autoharp me again.
with bracelet photos.
left hands.
no time, no medicine.
no seatbelts on this ride.
and it's hard to remember.
the end of December.
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