Beers. Bikes. Battlestar Galactica.
my name is faith, i work at a tattoo/piercing shop.
i probably like my cat more than i like you.
she had nothing but time on her hands;
silver rings, turquoise stones and purple nails.
I rub my thumb across her palm,
a featherbed where slept a psalm.
yea though I walked, I used to fly - and now we dance.
I watch my toenails blacken and walk a deadened trance
‘til she woke me with the knife edge of her glance.
I have the scars to prove the clock strikes with her hands.
—Saul Williams, “Fearless”
