Every person I ever loved tells me I compliment them too much, that my tongue is an infinite unraveling spool—thread words sewing the few inches between us. I don’t know … Continue reading The Mushy Poem

Every person I ever loved tells me I compliment them too much, that my tongue is an infinite unraveling spool—thread words sewing the few inches between us. I don’t know … Continue reading The Mushy Poem