Poetry

Rewiring

Rewiring "Write me a poem," she says, "-like you would for her." Like one of your french girls      I think, my mind in the gutter staring up at her arse. "But make it nice." Twirling her patchwork scent flowered and perfumery tumbling in my nostrils. "Nothing dirty." She says, winking- the galaxies of her eyes… Continue reading Rewiring