The wet dress
warm sand running through her fingers
tiny shells
unprecious stones.
No point in being
by the sea and
not getting wet.
Showing posts with label dress. Show all posts
Showing posts with label dress. Show all posts
Thursday, August 4
A Poem for Thursday.
Not Getting Wet
The wet dress
warm sand running through her fingers
tiny shells
unprecious stones.
No point in being
by the sea and
not getting wet.
The wet dress
warm sand running through her fingers
tiny shells
unprecious stones.
No point in being
by the sea and
not getting wet.
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