With hard edges
Points that could scrape my freckled back
the way mother does after another failed attempt
To fall in love
You are a crushed can of cola
Pointy and edged and empty
About Me.
- Emma Cherry
- In a yellow sumbarine, Liechtenstein
- We must blend into the choir Sing as static with the whole. We must memorize nine numbers and Deny we have a soul. And in this endless race for property and Privilege to be won. We must run, we must run, we must run.
