13
Jan
a slip of bitter breath cuts by
the hem of her scarlet frock
her slight cream hand slips into his
in step on cobblestone they walk
Sarcomical [tumbles]
I came. I saw. I ate all your cheese.
photographer :: word guzzler :: coffee grinder :: yoga revisitor :: indie listener :: idealist :: night owl :: imaginary world traveler :: wisecracker extraordinaire
*blog: Sarcomical
Fine Folk
