cold coffee in the evening
with stale crackers
that crumbled in the back of my nightstand
for far too long
you smile and we feast
even though we both hate cold coffee
and stale crackers
YOU ARE READING
the inevitability of wrinkled bedsheets
Poetrythe life of two, shown in one ~a bunch of sappy lovey-dovey stuff that will probably make you vomit blood~
