ywp, thank you

front lawns

frogs 

crochet projects

and tears

bring mind to your

fairytale girl

she laughs like a poet would (and does)

and moves my fingers

on the ukulele strings

three and angry/says the moaning sky/they follow you/then play the music/that sticks in your head/just so they can cackle/and watch you squirm/they cater/ to our lady of the underworld/the fates/give to none/and take from all.