December 2011
1 tag
someone: stop saying sorry.
me: sorry.
4 tags
Mouths full of sugar; they kiss -
it’s sweet.
The sugar makes tiny crunching noises
and leaves minuscule cuts on their lips.
Days later
She wakes up, alone, on a long white beach
dry as saline-bleached driftwood
and the tide lashes someplace her ears register as ”far away”
and she realises that, all along
”t’was simply salt and sand”
but her swollen...
