Can I Play Online With Anyone In Soul Silver

feathers.

This is Cinnamon, previously published on Thirteen Myna Birds .

The big window, a piece of ash
near your tiny spiny plants, empty bottles,
my eyes caked with brown kajal.
You sleep and dream of sheep.

The point is: do I really see you?
No way. But sure you can feel me,
fill me. Or at least you could.
Or at least you wish you would
when sliding under the covers
on Thursday night
eyelessly groping for the mattress girl.
I’m saving the way
you uncovered this organic clavichord of me
as I said Let’s play the black mass game , the way
you made sure that particular quiver
wasn’t fake. A wise cow like me
deserves to be fed, cleaned and covered.
That night I was a cow in labour
and you were gently holding on to that calf leg of me.