Sun, humidity, trees. Amber air, heavy wind. She smacks the gnat on her arm. Wipes its body onto her jeans. Peat moss under foot, Willows hanging low. She runs as fast
I cried when I recieved his kiss -Vulgar in my mouth. Tears ran down my face, silent as dead -Tears of my own. Sadness for loss, hole in my soul. -Missing...something.
No use crying Over spilt milk. Drips, streams, stinks It's still there Soaking the carpet. IT'S STILL THERE. No use crying Over spilt milk? Then why, is it STILL THERE?