"windowdoor" poems
This mannequin is freer than me
I’m treed to taxes and age
She stands beautiful and pale beyond the beautician’s windowdoor
Glass cannot hinder one’s sight
A primrose crown my daughter made for her naked head now wilts
Still she is unaffected by life, the stoic Apolinaria
~ A.M, F.H.
Feb 21, 2021
Feb 21, 2021 at 6:51 PM UTC