dear oliver,
i’m sorry. i told
you. you shouldn’t
have visited him.
and now you cry
on my shoulder.
no hair. no smiles.
just a slowly beating
heart.
quinn
YOU ARE READING
zero
PoetryQuinn scribbles tainted emotions across thin layers of white paper. But to who? To someone who blinks once, sees her, and blinks again-just to make her disappear. To someone who sees her as a symbol of the ocean. To someone who thinks the ocean is...
lxxi.
dear oliver,
i’m sorry. i told
you. you shouldn’t
have visited him.
and now you cry
on my shoulder.
no hair. no smiles.
just a slowly beating
heart.
quinn
