COYOTE BLOOD
poetry, art, mistakes, music, love, visions and everything...
Happy Traumakkah
I smell like the dish pit
of a Mexican restaurant.
My boogers have collected
from crying.
From butt cancer
to beautiful things.
Evening rain soaked streets
reflecting the light back at me.
Watching The Shawshank Redemption,
praying at the 'hope' line.
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