07-31-2016, 12:44 PM
I love the girl you love, or loved
when rain washed her colours across years
and danced her here. In my mind, she
and you are 14, true, and free to become
poetry, or tragedy, or the tears that pool
in the breath of tomorrow.
when rain washed her colours across years
and danced her here. In my mind, she
and you are 14, true, and free to become
poetry, or tragedy, or the tears that pool
in the breath of tomorrow.
