artwork by Sambaran Das from Locust #2.
He is such a stoic piece of marble that pigeons shit on him as he smiles. Your Boss wants to be your friend. His head is like a Thursday. His voice could best be described as 78 degrees with a slight chance of showers.
Your Boss wants to be the kind of friend that invites you to live beneath the bridge he bought that time he saw the city. He catches feelings when he catches you reading on the job. They painted the walls with the rest of them.
Your Boss wants to be the kind of friend that plucks your teeth until your face is just a hole, puckering for air. He eats like a bird.
Your Boss wants to bury you in the suit you wore when the two of you first met. Shivering coins that breed whatever comes with earthquakes, so bleed.
He is a rope designed for another’s milk.
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