Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Dec 2018
They caught their moist fingers in the mailbox and left them there to dry.
What was best was nearly always decided (by and by) and written against the softest music. You could not push and toil, one would underplay the sting. Or carry the memory of it, and mail that too.
andisashayi
Written by
andisashayi  F/South Africa
(F/South Africa)   
  229
   ---
Please log in to view and add comments on poems