Squished up in my hands

Obama started to write love letters, his mouth is a seed,
and women generally are bees.
He lays down metaphors like guns on each side of his hips,
holds me,

and I wonder if love falls like leaves, orbits as my hips, the moment in which you realise:

love happens.

You are holding a license and it tastes like water, pine.
You are thinking of the ways sadness is really, generally, just a nest to hold laughter.

In the moment, you are really just thinking about your cat.

Author's Note

I'M GETTING PUBLISHED FINALLLLLLLLLLLLLLLYYYYYYYY. IF YOU'RE FROM THE UK, GO TO YOUR LOCAL LIBRARY, OR THE BRITISH LIBRARY OR AT A SECONDARY SCHOOL LOOK!

it should be around jan 3rd :)

Reviews

[Steven]

I've been peppering around your writes and I love them! Where can I buy your stuff?

ON MY BIRTHDAY!
hehe, silly and strange as this is, I find you being published around or on my birthday to be an epic present haha.