Litkicks Message Board Archive

lookin at my hand

Posted to Action Poetry




without wipin the dirt off, them henna tattos and spirals of milky way conch shell armor of my soul my blood, less obsessed with mirrors than the mirror of another, the reflection they give when a voice is ensued, when a look strikes lighting, cuming through metal, umbrellas to float off, to dress martini glasses, gotta drink, life you know,