sunken-in eyes,
hidden beneath tired shadows,
but still as darkly bright as ever.
gentle fingertips,
fumble absentmindedly with the
thick hem of my favorite dress
i don't move when they brush bare skin
i look up to meet your gaze,
time stops,
and you pull your hand away
YOU ARE READING
ampersand
Poetrya collection of trash poetry from a girl who tries to treat people with kindness although many have been unkind to her
