squares. Fuck conformity, / the fear of being weird and free “I toss every laurel, prize, bouquet, coin, belly laughs and cries at their feet, the flames of these poet’s hearts & tongues, lick, lash, lacerate, love… saturate my pores. Every page, every poem, every phrase/line to be revisited again, again. Not only on the […]
knife | fork | book 