(no subject)

Oct 26, 2015 19:56

In the dark woods
she ran
'Till the running tasted quiet
and blood was on her tongue.
Never more a passing glance
intimacy suffocated in a wall of silence.

Fear to be seen and yet never to be seen.

The windows flicker evasively,
perhaps the cutwife is returned home.

Hello there.

poetry

Previous post Next post
Up