I ask again “Is it too late?”
She looks at me
but she’s not looking at me.
Eyes, swollen levees,
hold back the floods.
Dark circles frame dewy lashes,
sleep a long forgotten luxury. Continue reading “Tremors”
Heartwarming and inspirational women's fiction
I ask again “Is it too late?”
She looks at me
but she’s not looking at me.
Eyes, swollen levees,
hold back the floods.
Dark circles frame dewy lashes,
sleep a long forgotten luxury. Continue reading “Tremors”