 |
| butterfly match |
The rain stepped back, softly – she had
become a stranger.
Turning back the freshly laundered sheets
as if she looked to see who was sleeping there.
Only the rustle of their parting gave her
away.
It was still dark
Her footsteps would have remained unnoticed
if it hadn’t been for the thankful pop of the seeds at midnight.
int/69
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment