Tuesday, April 22, 2014

x

The stitches inside me are
creating a reflection
in my eyes like a code no
one could decipher.
Veins like branches of a tree
on winter; weak and old,
they're dying either way.
She spoke words that kept
him awake through the night,
depriving him of what
he needed the most.
Silk-like skin and sun-bright eyes,
who knows what lies beneath?

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