skyler

Long times were spent hanging tobacco leaves upon tiles, disemboweled tomatoes, oiling the body machine into currency. Leather hide be the king in these lands, I lie in bed yearning to stretch some. With one hand poking the sky, the other honing razors onto rugged, knotted skin, I imagine your gallop when you were alive. Beloved. How come you never got tired? Speed was your only sin. Broken is who i had been, had i been broken by you. Had i been you.

My eyes tweak at the sight of slippery. No doubt a morning.