Hungry Ghosts
Photoshop Tutor and Retoucher https://photoshopandphotography.com/
Monday, February 25, 2008
RIND
How I set my arm upon you
and it ripens
like the slow yellow smoke of pollution
choking under its’ own weight.
How I’m still left with what I’m hiding;
a dirty-curbed snow angel,
a mismatched address, a botched serum,
an escape.
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Arguing With Your Inner Voice
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SQUALL sputter fear paint me red scurry my eyebrows up to lightening rods