J. BRADLEY

I fly planes
Slowly driving her insane
Though we both know one another
We usually speak under cover
2 am shit
Discussions over the the feels we have for others
But we never discuss it between one another
.ArtDealer

Mad Rush

Weather Machine

Nerves transmuted into fireflies,
I wait for your hands, pretend
my couch is a backyard.

I want less fingers to count
the next time we can make
our bodies into swamps
worth leaving secrets in.

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