I watch as the smoke clears
Your delicate finger tips clasped around one of the few last anchors you had not yet lost to the sea
Our eyes meet but for a second
You look away
Jun 21, 2020
Jun 21, 2020 at 5:26 AM UTC
I watch as the smoke clears
Your delicate finger tips clasped around one of the few last anchors you had not yet lost to the sea
Our eyes meet but for a second
You look away
When your poison is your only cure.