tacky, too small
towel
folded over
mirror,
powdered yet
damp,
caving sun starved
cheek,
tepid swan tears
in her sway,
no push to
speak,
curtains hang like
eyelids,
sorrows perched
on shoulder
bare,
chipped comb teeth
parting grey
hair.
- Comment
- Reblog
-
Subscribe
Subscribed
Already have a WordPress.com account? Log in now.
hands in the garden 
Good to see you my friend. Hope you’re keeping well 🖤
Same with you my friend! Things are steady, how about things with you? I’m in the midst of an awful bout of writer’s block
❤ beautiful ❤