shifty gaze and nervous hands
permit a secret solace
ah her voice, still real; untouched
unlike our frangible girl-
raw skin, soul and mind-
this relief, thankfully, is genuine;
ubiquitous like warm blankets
(sans cowering body underneath)
~
9.9.16
YOU ARE READING
Tasting Hearts
PoetryPoetic gibberish from a teenage logophile where a girl writes what her fingers tell her to on the skeleton of rhyme, rhythm and reason.
