Categories
Fat Cat's First Book Poetry

Mist

what will I wear,
what shall I wear,
what shall I do with my hair?
I’ll wear my black,
my sweet, and we’ll smoke
’til the smoke comes
out our ears. we will

clamber out of the valley,
climb up the mountain,
my feet will drink the grass
and our breath will evaporate.

you tie a bow
so it sits on your head,
then we’ll dance ’til
the steam rises
from our feet and evaporates.

Leave a Reply