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Jan 2021
There is something about him
that I couldn’t take in
like the water swirling half-empty
in a wineglass,
my hold shaking as I made my way
to the dusty jaws
of our old paradise.
Love.
I close my eyes
and remember the moment I felt his cold fingers
slowly slipping away—
the wineglass shatters in the grass.

The water comes for
the prettier flowers.
Patrice A
Written by
Patrice A  22/Genderqueer/ph.
(22/Genderqueer/ph.)   
966
 
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