He Asked Me To Fill Him With My Words
He asked me to fill him with my words. So I did. I filled pages. I filled him with my poetry, lines so lyrical and liquid his heart ached.
He asked me to fill him with my words. So I did. I filled pages. I filled him with my poetry, lines so lyrical and liquid his heart ached.
I write to remember. I write our memories into existence on paper, our bodies twirling and dancing in the foggy, midnight air of a Minneapolis bar.