Yeah Poem by Indigo Hawkins
Yeah
Hold on a tick, while I lick
my fingers, mother. No need for your voice
to carry—or let it whirl if you will. Let it be
shrill; stick a needle in a cloud
over a cliff—not my
bridal shroud. Because
(before I marry) , I'm going
to tarry, eat this
blackberry and lick
my fingers.
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
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4/26/2024 4:18:55 PM # 1.0.0.1119
