Morning After
There was sand pouring out of his ear.There was a gash on his neck.
There was blush on mine.
We didn't talk about it.
They did.
We didn't giggle about it.
They did.
We didn't hide it.
They hid.
Poetry by Purple Puddles
Read 581 times
Written on 2011-02-09 at 13:28
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
