Poetry

of…

by Jaia Papitz

I wouldn't start the email with a barren dear or I hope this finds you well…

I want to be polite like a gentle summer rain after the drought

and lascivious like a baby born naturally, I want.
In the mean time, on the curb, waiting for the bus while trying to light
a half smoked cigarette with two or more dull stones, I hitch-hike…
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