What Kind of Hands Did The Monster Grow

What kind of hands did the monster grow. A royal flush, peaches and blush blooming epiphanies from the wrinkles in his palms, the desperate twitch of a boy sitting alone and naked in a cold bathtub swallowing soap and scraping food from his nails with loosened baby teeth, begging for his parents attention as they’re…

Henry VIII

How little do I speak – how quiet am I? I communicate in repetition but I deliver discourse in another language, my history does not connect to you and you lose the chemistry of my intention as you sleep, Sleep, every drop of alcohol in this house, Pass by me, as your ears fill with lavender…