Anna/Tommy

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the pied lady in her element; defiant to the core; water flowing between her thighs

such a bad disguise;

right, rancour, wean, and stupor.


the mother's blessed, tit hanging low like fruit off a flesh tree

nothing good until we are free;

to stumble, rise above, and persevere.


after all this time, i still wear my gloves to show

the love i love for her, we are at a needless standstill; 

i am the heart and you are the mind

and someday a bladder will grow.

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