October, Ideally
a poem about my cock and the pain that comes from being months from bottom surgery with FFS up in the air
This poem is free to read. Paid subscriptions are genuinely how I cover groceries and keep this going full time, so if the work means something to you, I’d really appreciate it.
Mirror first. Face first.
Soft jaw. Wet eyes. Mouth trembling
before the crying starts.
Skin softer than it used to be.
Cheeks fuller. A girl looking back
through bad bathroom light
li…
