Wade: C’mon, how many times do I have to apologize?
Wade Wilson: [refers to sand as ‘heterosexual glitter’]
i devour your presence
Peter: And, now, here’s Wade with the cute ending.
Wade, covered in blood, holding a knife: I thought you said cult ending
Thank you for the vibes much appreciated
This is so sweet
To all the artists whose poems write like mine did two years ago,
Write it. Write about how
she caught your elbow, and how she pointed at the clouds, how you were looking at herhis ink-speckled fingers.
Someday, you’ll write a novel about the way her lipstick smudges onto her teeth and how her hair ends up in your mouth in the morning. You’ll type out every pronoun with a sense of finality you never thought you’d know.
– part r of pride // bluestruckholly