tumbleweeds
surviving the heat
of this odd love of ours
a desert
full of void
and mirages of you
with open arms
waiting for me
—I thought I saw you in my cup of tea
YOU ARE READING
an ocean of teardrops
PoetryI avoid surfaces with reflections, avoid facing reality. At the sea, where I last washed away my scars only to have them appear in different places, different faces. And so I try comforting myself through imaginary conversations with the people I lo...
