No one walks here.
Leaves gather darkly
in loose circles,
the wind carries.
Cool spatters blow eastern,
whipping a low pitch.
As lights blue into a puddle
across the black,
you think of pollution
and grooves of lips.
A gust of her walks through.
ESTÁS LEYENDO
have u seen my whale
Poetrybunch of random poems i don't know where to put and don't plan on doing anything with cover credits to canva
