[44] – Slowly
They soon
s l o w l y
Began to realize
That they were
s l o w l y
Becoming complete
Strangers
Once again.
YOU ARE READING
Pluviophile
PoetryIt was a rainy day, in New York no less. One held a cup of coffee, wishing for the rain to stop. One held a hand full of old books, savouring the moment. short story #98 poetry #51
