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High Critique » please roast the noob
Please roast the noob!
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Curatorial breath,
Lounging with loretta--
Will anyone ever teach me about
Sterility?
Gentle pads on my thighs and widened eyes
She doesnt understand either,
Racing through the floor, one end to the other,
Interrupting the staled air.
Terrycloth wraps her too, or some other exotic weave
Slug nurse, in sepia, spies binoculars obscured.
With focus, a vision:
Feathery green Tissue paper escapes upwards,
Exposing your silhoutte, a few bare seconds spared,
Before your outline snaps back to its supposed home
Tighter it will grip as concerted thought
Rivals batting, snooping eyelids, tears streaming sideways, and tangled beads
Social contractions further light the wound of your guardless site--leave the strands be.
They are for me to reel, and yours to budge
During the dimmer hours of night.
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