Meet Babette Cieskowski

Published on Compose:

Ray

I’ll be your doll,ragged, soiled,ripped from the box,uncollectable. Take my heat.Appraise me.I’m worth your weightin bones. Ask—I’ll be your dog. The living thingyou coil with—feed me.I’ll be yours. Treat me like the dying bird tuckedinside your pillowcase. Pretendmy wings were…

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