Friday, February 12, 2016


Old lace, dirty panes, and unremembered heart pangs.
Forgotten kisses, crumbling roses, and sun-bleached stains.
The dust dances lazily.
It does not ask what came before, only hugs what remains.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

This really just spoke to me. I am in a dream land of images from these words right now.