Untitled sketch

[10 September 2019]

You cup your smile between two halves
of an orange, peeled, juice running
sticky sweet down your hands and your forearms
and dripping off the tip of your elbows, landing
splash on the grey tile floor warmed by a patch of
latesummer sun.

3 thoughts on “Untitled sketch

  1. Whatever you write it becomes beautiful.
    Delicious words in my mind and it is like all words transform into something else, behind the scene… and something undiscovered happens….
    I am so grateful to you and your words.


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