maybe we are
blessed with
fire-knit hands
so they may
feel warmth
in the dead
of summer.
maybe we are
the excess.
YOU ARE READING
little blue flowers
PoetryA collection of original poetry by Ella Petrichor. Highest Rank: #152 in Poetry (6/14/18) **COMPLETED** ::Excerpt:: "betrayal along the seams" A melancholic pallor lining her face She stood in the doorway Beating the shit out of that old rug As thou...
everytime i feel the sun
maybe we are
blessed with
fire-knit hands
so they may
feel warmth
in the dead
of summer.
maybe we are
the excess.
