Tag Archives: natalie crick

Baby's Breath, poem by Natalie Crick

On rainy days I give myself per­mis­sion To touch the glass And see your remains: Tis­sues, shad­ows, All that is left Of you. Danc­ing with ghosts Over dark hills. Sky­larks, old dear. When I stand in your old room I feel so sad that I mas­tur­bate … Con­tin­ue read­ing

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