afraid (she)
by me
brushing past the consequence of love
casually dressed and ready
leave before that glare,
of morning, hits
the atmosphere
fools us into believing
we take what we can
like bandits,
like gypsy thieves,
all open mouths and tongues.
forget my name.
forget the sun, baby
run run run
penning a note explaining,
sustaining,
lingering by the pot of coffee
you pr…
Keep reading with a 7-day free trial
Subscribe to Laura’s Substack to keep reading this post and get 7 days of free access to the full post archives.