Jul 2020
Cotton words
Well up in me
With wads of nothingness and felt
They glimmer and taste
Of a particular silence
And like the businesses just down the street
Their hope it flees
They've run out
Well up in me
With wads of nothingness and felt
They glimmer and taste
Of a particular silence
And like the businesses just down the street
Their hope it flees
They've run out
