Jun 3
The pink lilacs brushed her fingertips.
Her mother's lips kissed her forehead.
The sweeping gown lay slain around her ankles.
Its hide camouflages her,
Seals her skin from prying eyes.
The bouquet is brighter than her painted cheeks.
YOU ARE READING
Poetry For The Lost People
Puisi365 observations and comments about society, life and love throughout 2022. Come with me on my journey day by day, as I write what I've always wanted to say. There is no method or planning, just thoughts and perceptions about the way of the world. A...
