A ‘Tween the Air and Hard Place
by jerrontables
We tiny feet a pat the ground,
We often lost and broken sounds–
A call for naught and sunken by
The river where we heated lie
cooling.
She curtains off, she runner bare,
She mud upon her derriere.
She forest fur and tree to tree–
She out of sight. She lost to me.
space debris.
Awesome.