I like when they say I'm made of stars. I know it's not correct but I can see it. Like a cheap 80s sci-fi movie. Glitter floating everywhere. In a dark void. I smile as a too brown to be red rock flies by Baby you're made of stars. Poets love to say that. If you open me up, look into my heart my brain my stomach my bones. Imagine hitting it. A light tap... And a storm of glitter and an ancient history clouds the room.
Scribbles
#16 - 2016.10.04















