black sand

if a word is a hurdle,

I’m olympic sized.

Pants can be poetic

just watch me

sparkle and free

style for the ladies.

I dumped loads and

loads

of intentions today,

shoved another one

outside.

Bitch, I’m done.

It’s a funny thing to

have a voice on

a beach. Lounder than waves.

I crash and I shrug,

digging my death, rollin my spliff.

She backs away,

arms flapping further from the day she was born.

Babygirl eats tomatoes whole,

like fucking apples.