PEARL STREET BAKERY
Where the cats hung out. White flour
and I guess the mice. We kept single
times there, where magic would happen.
Too long back then, wasn't it? I wanted
to draw you in. You wanted to draw the
mice. Not easy being an artist-kid.
-
For supplication, I would beg a branch
or two off a tree that had so many.
No comments:
Post a Comment