wedding rug
autumn, feminine, life, poetry, woman


Trapped in a fluid body,

tentacles of burgundy garbed

thoughts oozing out like

myriad snake heads. Sniffing

somberly, the dark melancholia

pervasive in the air and then

crawling back, melting again

with the red hues.

10 thoughts on “Trapped”

      1. You make it easy, and you deserve every one, young person! πŸ™πŸ™πŸ™ Keep writing, keep talking 😯😯

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