My hands feel sweaty As I gently lift you off my lap Your gray tail curves against my arm And I feel as though you’re holding on Not because you’re afraid to fall But because you’re afraid to keep holding on   Fragile bones of starvation can be felt Amongst the ungroomed, greasy hair You…

This content is for Basic Member, Friends of Burningword 3-Day Pass, Friends of Burningword 3-Month Subscription, and Friends of Burningword Annual Subscription members.
Log In Register
Listed at Duotrope
Listed with Poets & Writers
CLMP Member
List with Art Deadline
Follow us on MagCloud
%d bloggers like this: