Читать книгу The Spoons in the Grass Are There to Dig a Moat - Amelia Martens - Страница 10
ОглавлениеAll around me people are falling on their forks. We drag comet tails through the streets like forgotten capes. We need a bandage. We need an adage, an adverb, a mountain sage. There’s a ringing in my eon. Whoever asks to, can come in. Raise your hand. The covers we pull up are made of magazines. Dear Atlantic, could you print something that doesn’t make me weep? I’m drying here. I want to mail you my heart. The part where you say ocean, the part where you say sure thing, the part where I turn into sky.
