I let my hair down in an attempt to flesh it out.
Weekends fly by and nothing happens and then, she turns up.
She's lounging on the couch while I set myself right.
And I watch her in reflection.
My own dissolves into amber flickers.
Maybe, tomorrow, she'll still be around.
2 comments:
Your face looks gaunt?
my waistline looks like Lalu Prasad's swiss bank account.
Australo: my inner, thin-self's face, fellow.
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