Tommy wandered his way over
To the fig tree before
Pliny began to speak.
I crouched next to Tommy
In the fig cave my body canvas.
I did not want to leave the protective
Grip of careful coordination.
August Poem 31
Tommy wandered his way over
To the fig tree before
Pliny began to speak.
I crouched next to Tommy
In the fig cave my body canvas.
I did not want to leave the protective
Grip of careful coordination.
stories about English language and people in Asian communities in America and in Asia.
therichardbraxton 