Free-quencyits like infinity she tries to explain grappling for words trying to fit the universe into a singularity sentenceFree-quency
she lays back its like tapping into all these different frequencies she whispers smiling and her eyes wander somewhere not here
Bus in a BottleFrivolous chatter, hiccupping yeasty bubbles of frolic and laughter We are swimming deep in a gleeful stupor, drowning our senses Pop. The bus door opens. The bus driver smiles amiably with chubby cheeks, his bald spot an island. We are all hands on deck now, swaying in, the dark night. Strange lands we see. pink-dotted horizons electric-stripped waves shimmering buoysBus in a Bottle
country music trickling through the speakers.
and sometime during the voyage, the night lulls me to sleep resting my head on my first mate’s shoulder I sink deeper drunk as the sea
and thank you for the
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_________________
.emilly rainbird
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