Suwan Wanawattanawong; Shutterstock you cut a piece of my hairit curls between your index finger and your thumbin the distancesilhouetted against the snowknotted kerchiefsthe dress of a woman who insinuates herself on people’s skin like mold on wallsin the little house hidden by oak treesin the unmade bed where every night you sleep aloneI listen […]
Bloom #poem #poetry
Categories: Brez kategorije
