while your mother made me tea.
i didn't read it to her, of course.
but she gave me a note
that called me
her daughter-in-law,
she said it was our crime.
i tore it up after she left, hid
the pieces under my mattress.
i drink tea by myself,
and write another poem to your skin.
5 comments:
you are good
you are good
you are good
Sad and very lovely. Did this happen to you?
Peace:)
Lara
so nice blogger
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