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Literature Text
I.
We sat in silence,
our bruises, the only hint,
we'd ever spoken.
II.
Strangers would not know,
that only hours ago
we were so entwined.
III.
But I'm comforted
by the slipping memory
of waking to you.
We sat in silence,
our bruises, the only hint,
we'd ever spoken.
II.
Strangers would not know,
that only hours ago
we were so entwined.
III.
But I'm comforted
by the slipping memory
of waking to you.
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