I don’t look
into Mother’s mouth—
such pretty lips,
past the supple pink
she smells of decay.
Truths disperse on the wind,
I am lying
in a pool,
Mother’s drooling again.
Holdless hands
© AvenKain
I don’t look
into Mother’s mouth—
such pretty lips,
past the supple pink
she smells of decay.
Truths disperse on the wind,
I am lying
in a pool,
Mother’s drooling again.
Holdless hands
© AvenKain