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last summer in a hazy cafe an older man asked me if i had grown up elsewhere, somewhere far away.my womb is a frightening, magnificent dream, mister. i bleed in clouds. i believe in st. franics mister. pray to mary. animalz i speak to. loved Him, who art in heaven. been left, been lying with my thumb in the air. been picked up. seen heaven and men. drank their lustful dreamz. i am filled with broken toyz and crying lost boyz. home has been a river, an orange tree. and i turn in dreams & yell “river nil river nil, i beg my soul to spill!”
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thank u precious bb xoxo
ur cute asf