maybe i’ll bake again one day.
fold egg whites like blue sheets in july,
summer water on my lips and down the drain as if weren’t an issue anymore.
the rice will always turn to pudding and i’ll never be as old as wine
almond cake
maybe i’ll bake again one day.
fold egg whites like blue sheets in july,
summer water on my lips and down the drain as if weren’t an issue anymore.
the rice will always turn to pudding and i’ll never be as old as wine
More by saskiag
-
it was me
my eyelid is so soft in the bent ikea light.
quickly, that i'll bend to gum. turn to analysis and that’s what keeps me there, i’d burn the glass as the kitchen scale -
chives
born by chives, wisteria. i’ve been well but embalmed by last night;
i can’t carry one’s bone to my house, can’t sew a ripened meal with a buried hand. -
claudia in first grade
sometimes i rip ginger from the root; bite down, it makes my eyes water.
(turns my spit to heat)
i won’t ask to have it repeated because i feel a child among the ones who carry solid teeth.
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