XLI.
a wad of gum
once pink and soft
now black and rusted,
obscures a heart
etched into the bark of an old tree.
we keep walking.
A
YOU ARE READING
fifteen (XV)
Poetryi prick my finger on a rose in my garden. my blood is not red. i take the wind caressing my face as a silent apology. cover art made by doradorapuff on tumblr. [2015] thank you to everyone who shared with me these short poems as they were published...
XLI.
XLI.
a wad of gum
once pink and soft
now black and rusted,
obscures a heart
etched into the bark of an old tree.
we keep walking.
A
