went away for four days
i changed
the world remains the same
all it took
was two tanks of gas
maker’s mark
a little smoke on
the mountain
poetry
an act of god
and a man who
will never be my husband
Categories
aayoungPoetry, Prose, Art, Curiosities
3 replies on “smoke on the mountain”
Jesus. I pity and am strongly interested the type of man who will be your husband (if such a beast exists).
Trent, I totally get it. Thank you for understanding, as always. I’m so fucking grateful for you.
I mean that as a compliment, although it sounds kinda stupid when I read it.