I'm free
to read the characters
on our hands,
measure
the shape of your nails,
trace the lines
on your palms
- and hope that somewhere,
they run into mine.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
-
on what life meant to make out of faith
-
Mamu touched my hair the other day and said: This is not the hair of the girl I birthed. What did you do to your hair? I touched my hair, im... -
i cannot imagine how you put up with a man who drags you by your nape and tells you to go to your room and puts you out in the night. it...
No comments:
Post a Comment