1,121 Readings


Stop throwing yourself on the horns of god

A paragraph built of complex thoughts

Go off grid

You never knew her

The ship can’t reach harbor

Your mother in the hallway

Carrying a plaque

Your dad

Time steeps in the universe’s milk

Stop farming downstream from shit

In the morning you pause

A succulent

You lick your lips

For this the collapse of love

You will meet a lot of people

Some of them will believe you

She is the pit
Posted 05/24/11
Books by Emily Kendal Frey
Comments (0)