a place for zinesters - writers and readers
this house smells like old coffee
and something else-
some cross between dirty
and dinners i let burn
... before i threw away.
i am rarely there; i leave
the windows open all day
everyday. walk through the door.
vanish into bed each night.
Added by Gabrielle Congrave on April 15, 2013 at 9:43am — No Comments