i can feel your facial expression:
it's got
devious
glitterbug eyes, they're cryptic
things, with your lips
pressed firmly together
your face taking on a hard
ancient look,
moreso
than your typical self;
an intensified womanly
glare-thing.
it's silly devious.
it's damn serious
with foolishness.
i say this for soul:
this is
a creature
of its own.
Tuesday, November 20
behind the windsheild i sit in the passengers seat and navigate.
click here to speak to me.