nora (elenoise) wrote,
nora
elenoise

mint leaves

the little space
between his neck and curls
-tousled-

smelled of nutmeg and warm milk.

on a window sill,
then,
silly sappy songish.

sooty, i walked the alleyway.

"i am left to carry this. this. empty basket. ive dropped my seeds."

not prim nor proper,
not avarice nor concession.

i sit transparent as a previctorian bed sheet,

waiting for forgetting to grow.
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