Lights
I've never sat in front of a dressing room mirror. It's soft lights bordering it's square lines. My mirror is old, dusty and worn. But I see myself as I think I truly am, and it suits me fine.
End of January Notebook Fragments
2 days ago
2 comments:
These are good - little poem bombs.
n i c e
one could almost see your life through a small hole.
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