i cannot promise anything
except that i will break
open my mind
to you

running warm
and viscous
like the bright yoke
of a poached egg

spilling my brains
from a balcony
falling heavy
into your

i wish it were better news
that we had hope
to hold onto

we said
things in
the golden
light slanting
through gnats
that can’t be taken back


Unholy Imaginings Copyright © by Kat Karney. All Rights Reserved.

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