Dear Sasha, Dear Ann

Dear Anns by Sasha Manoli, Dear Sashas by me

Dear Ann
Combo slice em up
Ann’s braids are tied in a knot
Bump a clot
Two pigs in a fuck
You can’t hear me

peekaboo

I see you
Eating rice with a knife?
How absurd

Your brain is curled
Singing love

You're messed up
In the shower
You smell like flowers

How’s your wife?
She’s fucking Tom
Did you eat?
I already threw up my tea
Will you please me?
From the bottom or the top?
Could you tease me?
From the bottom or the top?

Dear Sasha

Where were you yesterday?
I never left the garden
Where is your money?
I am sitting on the floor
The disabled yellow fingers
Of slow girlfriends in pigeon shit rooms
Blowing smoke into second-hand purifiers
You are glossy as a blue-inked stamp
You are renamed
You are From the Library of Ann Ward
And you are mine

Dear Ann
Did you vomit today?
Because you look super thin!

Dear Sasha
If you fail at life
I’ll buy you some feelings