Category poems for lola

Your magic is showing

this is where the poem ends


i dont know if i know how to stay

you’ll know when I’m listening

But it’s the explosions that you’re known for

You cannot hide the evidence of a fire.

I believe in whichever god that made you

love sneaks in when we’re ready because it knows better than us about timing

bloodletting but with words

I glimpse her looking at me from the corner of every thought

When You Lose Everything, You Can Do Anything

Nothing says ‘springtime’ quite like the smell of your own seared flesh against your motorcycle’s exhaust pipe.

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Drunk girl at Denny’s just told me vaginas were invented when Wolverine was fingering Adam and got too excited. Now I believe in true love.