Saturday is small and full of bright hot life and love buns. I can’t taste the chocolate notes in coffee three, but Jesus turns the wet brown grounds toliquid light and I growthick roots, twisting…
Posts tagged Coffee
Marcus by Katie McGinnis
Marcus was a poet. A man pumped so full of lithium that his arms had swollen into sausages. So fat that I could hardly find his eyes. According to him, to his eyes, the world…