by A.C. Dobell
didn’t say it like other people say it
with a playful hesitation at its unfamiliarity
in their mouths; it was one exhale,
four syllables rounded one small fire
in the night. I don’t use it often, Continue reading
by A.C. Dobell
didn’t say it like other people say it
with a playful hesitation at its unfamiliarity
in their mouths; it was one exhale,
four syllables rounded one small fire
in the night. I don’t use it often, Continue reading
Filed under Poetry