Yola

How can we hope to grow, when bodies list and scream, on wine and song or groans, love resists all meaning, worm of a curious quarantine, it dances on the ceiling, and you my loving joke, spill out your feelings, on the lake into water, how beautiful are your cheeks, Apache high on the bone, shudder when my arms reach, for money sworn we’d known, raging Saturdays demons, sunlight finds us broke, work is cut by weeks, our faces nailed to screens, we’re just out our dream, not behaving responsibly.