So far past it whispers.
A realm of sinking
traces I cleave
to.......
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
My tiny fists
crush the fabric
I loved.
I do not remember
her name.
2 comments:
Such a sweetly melancholy remembrance. Is she your babysitter or FOO I'm wondering. I love the mystery of this.
She watched me for a few years....When the parents were out......
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