Wednesday, October 12, 2011

wasted youth.














Touch my skin
and feel the softness of a fleshy wrist
Run over scars and bumps and rashes
all signficant, 
all a part of me.

Touch my hair
and run your rough, rough hands through the mess of curls and frizz
Catch your nails in the stories of strands and wisps



No comments:

Post a Comment