Itching After Eyebrows Waxed

Your hands are a worthless currency
not buy or clocks that keep time
Win or sold to the stomachs who vomited for days and failed to learn anything from health
not caress the face of the dead I do not keep playing, do not dry tears.
Stake Your hands are the memories left on the beach of Barcino
are the woman who gives her body and then goes
are my desire to have my boil when trains fail
are my hands when pressed themselves to sense hands.