Porcelain
soft consonants trickled from her lips
as though dead air's perfume.
delicate limbs placed deliberate dishes
on obedient stacks, one by one.
her chin crossed a shoulder,
eyes deep and pained.
syllables like orchestral chords
uttered acceptance.
1 comment:
soo thats wat porcelain is uh...haa i just think of my skin when iam not tan haa lov ya..
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