Ezra Cortez

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In The Heat
I was walkin slow and pained and wincy-eyed,
-If you'd call it walking-
On a running road where doing anything less
Would mean that you were dead
Clear Creek
I sang to the crowd within the safety of a warm campfire session
Never felt so good to act a fool
A girl told me i was beautiful and my heart
Every Morning Is A Birth
i am a soft fish from the cool drips
of a corner stream.
my baby eyes, they burn wet, newborn kisses
and bite
Golden God
Golden god, i am godly golden
I am one soft son of a gun
I am waiting for a heavy day
Where is it that i can leave my shoes?
The Golden Touch
Bird flights through night highs in
Spotted white black classic scenes, it's not no wonder
Ripples rip round places ‘bove our heads makin
Roarin' rumbles that cock our necks to face the wind with


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4/12/2021 9:34:56 PM #