The Miracle of You, Writing and Art by Dawn Thompson
You are all mouth
until you arrive at the magazines.
Then you are only hands…
one by one…
You rip, tear, crumble
until the carpet is a lawn of disembodied language…
You are all mouth
until you arrive at the magazines.
Then you are only hands…
one by one…
You rip, tear, crumble
until the carpet is a lawn of disembodied language…