TURN YOUR HEAD AND COUGH

THE TUMBLR OF DREW CHARLES KALBACH, SOMETIMES HORTICULTURIST

Jul 7

My hands, which are

warts, which are covered in

 

warts, mean the flesh reached

inward and made fresh.

 

There are girls and they

have names, there are people


without limbs walking through

glass. I know, of course

 

I know, there are parts of people

I want to touch


but can’t. Without skin

 the air burns.