Not your type of alone by Elisabeth Horan

The lonely girls eats a cookie alone. Crumbs matter not at all for no one shall punish her. There is no priest here and certainly no sanctuary for playing in. He left to be an engineer of hierarchies.

Rue of Maiorum by Annie Blake

for Ehrlich

i wanted my life to live i noticed her green cat eyes her arms had been scratched by the sun thin like sucked meat of slither of bone swathes lifted onto the loft my life in no particular succession for i’m in atonement for my rendition