her hair was ink
cascading her shoulders;
reflecting blue skies
of late winter.
and we sat stationary,
speaking foreign languages
and i realized i don’t even know her name.
Mar 19, 2016
Mar 19, 2016 at 10:21 PM UTC
her hair was ink
cascading her shoulders;
reflecting blue skies
of late winter.
and we sat stationary,
speaking foreign languages
and i realized i don’t even know her name.
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