34.
ARTWORK: Navita Wijeratne
the bread is my body, eat. eat me BY MAHALIA CRAWSHAW
the body is weak my body is weak and the red on my lips spells temptation and it blows a kiss to the girl in the mirror she smirks she knows she unbuttons her blouse and pulls up her skirt her lust is showing and still the man at the dais he yells he spits he gets red in the face because these girls young girls are owning their bodies and yet can we really when we wear our heels like armour and learn to run in them because it’s dark at night and his mind is dark his needs, his wants, his desires even more so
