COYOTE BLOOD
poetry, art, mistakes, music, love, visions and everything...
You Are Pretty, Still
I like when your ears poke out of your hair,
as it is pulled back into a lazy bun.
Your 8 o'clock is my six o'clock,
and I don't understand timezones.
No matter the past, present, or future,
you are pretty, still, on my windowsill.
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