Pity had been love, yet also uncertainty. However, in spite of his vagueness, she gave him a prompt of her desire. The failure was individual to all the other shames and yet misery, too beaten to blame afterwards, she fully knew the obscure depths of a society constituted by possible sinister motive. She didn't judge the last word during which she quite visibly lost herself in the thought of the way her wretched father had done it as usual.
just she observed in silence how he mistreated such a delicate woman whom he called love of his life.
YOU ARE READING
on the margin and other stuff
Poetrywords flow out of my fingertips like ink on the surface
