My cloudburst, my wild sowed oat
breaking your own little heart
all by yourself, all alone.
those red-rimmed fingers
plucking dark summer fruits
promising tomorrow will be sweeter.
My darling,
there is no love like letting go
you can rest now.
YOU ARE READING
Blood Orange Periphery / 𝘱𝘰𝘦𝘵𝘳𝘺
Poesía❝The calm in my marrow spoke in muted bursts of fireworks. I was born for explosions and trying to be less.❞ Over the past decade, I've written poems, books, short stories, fanfiction and hundreds of thousands of words, but nothing felt complete. Th...
