winter solitary
venturing to feel less dead in winter solitary,
we dont let water touch our skin unless it’s necessary,
like to, for instance, quell the itch of days without a bath;
or doing dishes just to eat more shitty ramen packs
Category: word formations
Twas mouthed by magic old
A path thru restful seemeries,
in lampglow in those quarters cold,
a budding vine two houses twined.
Those vestments that remained adorned
did not a buffer bring to form,
nor at the sacred blinking door
allow such thought to come to fore