that smell of laundry someone else’s laundry is making its way in through the windows spreading itself in my bedroom like a blanket gently kissing the floor i lay there and close my eyes as my eyelashes gently kiss the rim of my heavy under-eyes.
Tag Archives: wholesome
Ode to my broken piano
On the days that I do not love you my love looks nothing like love. In fact, it looks much like not quite the opposite but an in between state: A half-working key, an almost soundless note pressed against my finger-tips.
poetpri 