Sunday, December 16

the way my mother found out about my latest tattoo

trying on ribbon bras behind red velvet curtains
she wanted to see
okay,
but i have to tell you something first.

i got a new tattoo.

she: WHAT? comes into the change room.

stares
me
down.

she: you're trouble.

this is not a poem.

behind the windsheild i sit in the passengers seat and navigate.

click here to speak to me.

cats to my fish