the earth beneath her feet

he earth beneath her feet will lead
to compromise the concrete street
wether a mindset accepts the
sunset where work set separate

trauma witnessed
she must let go of it to live a comfortable life
more than exist she must insist for an
unspoken privacy

existential essential filled with
alerted to darkness
of those innocuous-she exquisitely
holds her ground

a peace and a promise to listen
in silence
the feedback surprisingly sound
her face like a fresco
beauty in her shoulders and elbows

I’d like to share some chilled Pellegrino, sit around talking about our
passed lives on ships
set out to sea.

Do something awesome. Tell a friend: