Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Unpolished
The Ocean Throws up a stone, Flattish, nearly round, Found by a child, Who feels it, The rasping nick, It's nearly a heart. Salt water...
-
Jolie Laide There she hangs, his masterpiece and her own, Immortalised in paint, painted over until, A finished moment masks all tha...
-
Her beating heart, so tired now, nerves worn thin with worrying, Her legs, led her, running on empty, to the place where she could rest ; ...
No comments:
Post a Comment